


I Get By With A Little Help

by stratumgermanitivum, whiskeyandspite



Series: Kinkmeme Story Prompts [27]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: (Consensual) Size Shaming, A/B/O, BDSM, Bondage, Breeding Bench, Care, Childhook Flashbacks, Cock Cage, Devotion, Dirty Talk, Fluff, Fondling, Implication of Play Parties, Kneeling, Leather, Loss of Innocence, M/M, Marking, Mention of Past Rape (not between Will and Hannibal), Murder, Ownership, PTSD, Panic Over Infertility, Punishment, Roleplay, Size Difference, Size Kink, Spanking, Submission, Subspace, Traditionalist, Unethical therapy, bonding bite, collaring, mention of infertility, naked housework, nuzzling, prison flashbacks, subservience, unconventional therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:41:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26365105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stratumgermanitivum/pseuds/stratumgermanitivum, https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskeyandspite/pseuds/whiskeyandspite
Summary: Hannibal could see how hard Will was trying. He staggered along through each session, looking to Hannibal for approval with a desperate hopefulness that Hannibal found endearing. He needed to be taken into hand, trained and coaxed. He bent so beautifully to guidance.Will is released from jail, having served most of his formative years inside, and finds himself overwhelmed by the world around him. Thankfully, Dr. Hannibal Lecter is there to help.ON INDEFINITE HIATUS
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Kinkmeme Story Prompts [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1575217
Comments: 172
Kudos: 584
Collections: Hannigram Kinkmeme





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nephila_clavipes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nephila_clavipes/gifts).



> To say this is ethically murky is an understatement, but there isn't any non-con involved. Consider a gentle dub-con warning for the fact that Will is taken advantage of simply because he's too naive to know better, but in the end it isn't badly recieved. Hence the warning above, but nothing horrific happens to either of them.

“Mr. Graham,”

Will swallowed, trying not to fidget where he sat, hands clasped in his lap rather than gripping the arms of the chair. His foot bounced rhythmically at his side, nervous, involuntary.

“You came to us very young, I see. Your file says you were incarcerated at fifteen.”

“Yes, sir, they chose to try me as an adult,” Will snapped his jaw shut before he could say any more.  _ Answer only what they ask you, you don’t owe them anything else _ .

“Barbaric practice,” one of the other parole officers murmured, turning a page in her own file.

“This was two years before they passed the act protecting Omega youth offenders from being tried as adults for murder.” The first man replied.

“Manslaughter,” Will corrected softly, cheeks heating even as he did. “Self defense.”

The three officers looked down as though synchronized, the first humming his agreement before looking up again.

“Manslaughter, yes. Self defense was proven, you yourself received quite the injury.”

“Yes, sir.”

“But you’ve been a model prisoner,” the woman continued, flicking through the appropriate pages. “You completed your high school diploma, participated in the prison canine rehabilitation program thrice, becoming an accomplished trainer in that time.”

“Your mentor spoke very highly of your work with the animals, and the other prisoners.” the third officer, another man, spoke up for the first time. Will attempted a smile.

“I found it very rewarding, sir.”

“So I see. You went on to study further, completing a degree via distance study in psychology.”

“Graduated with honors,” the first man added. Will’s smile came a little easier this time.

“The purpose of this meeting isn’t to determine whether or not you are rehabilitated, Mr. Graham, all of us can see that you are. It is to ask you about your plans for the future once you are released.”

Will swallowed again, spread his hands over his knees to straighten out the suit pants he’d borrowed from one of the younger wardens. They’d told him this meeting would require a suit.

“I uh, I would like to look for work,” Will replied, quietly. He cleared his throat before continuing. “I have no living family left, but I was told they left me some money when they passed. I’d have something to set myself up. If I could get a reference from here I could - I’d like to perhaps work with dogs some more.”

They nodded, a collective force, the last hydra to face before the world absorbed him again. 

“It can be very difficult to readjust to the outside world,” the woman said, her face a mask of sympathy. “Have you considered therapy?”

Will worked his fingers over the fabric of the pants, smooth, slightly rough. Cheap quality but suitable enough for basic occasions. Half a size too big. “I... I hadn’t, but I would be willing to.” There was little he wouldn’t do at this point. He wanted to be able to breathe again. To have the distance between himself and a neighbor be more than seven or so feet.

Another nod from the woman. She looked like somebody’s mother, soft lines in her face guiding it into concern. “We can offer you a list of potential resources when you leave here.”

The first man shuffled through the papers once more. “Mr. Graham, it is our hope to see everyone who leaves this prison find a place for themselves as a contributing member of society. Considering your background, we have little doubt that you have a hopeful future ahead of you.”

Will exhaled. It felt like he hadn’t for a very long time. “Thank you, Sir.”

* * *

Will had gone into prison with nothing but the clothes on his back. He’d grown another foot since then. Someone had kindly assisted him in purchasing a loose pair of jeans, a white T-Shirt, and a flannel that kept out the worst of the autumn chill. He had been outside since his incarceration began, set loose into the rec yard and on occasion brought to help clean up highways, but this was different. This was the first breath of freedom in eighteen years, and he didn’t know what to do with it. For a while, he’d just stood there outside the prison gates, lost, uncertain. 

For a week, he stayed in a cheap motel. He bought a handful of clothes from Wal-Mart. He ate an entire bag of Doritos in half an hour and vomited orange. He slept in for the first time in nearly two decades. Then he began the process of piecing a life together. 

He had no idea how to buy a house, though he thought he might be able to afford one. Instead, he called one of the numbers he’d been given, landlords who had no qualms about renting apartments to men with criminal records and no real job to speak of immediately. He rented a cramped one-bedroom apartment above a laundromat and convinced his landlord to help him subscribe to a newspaper so he could check the classifieds. 

He realized quickly that the world had changed massively since he had last been in it. When once Will would have lost his mind over a phone that had a screen the size of his thumb with one game on it, now phones looked like miniature televisions with no buttons at all. He had worked on computers for study in prison, but they were nothing like the laptops - laptops! - available in stores; sleek, quick, shiny things that looked like something out of a Star Trek episode. He bought one, and a phone. He set up an internet plan, a phone plan, made accounts online on employment websites, looked up the therapists the parole board had recommended. He was moving through the world, he was making it work.

Within two days, Will felt like he would shatter at the slightest noise. Firstly, there was  _ so much noise _ . Prison had had its own orchestra of sounds of course; people yelling, the near-endless clanging of metal, someone turning in the top bunk, the drip of a leaking tap… but out here, there were cars and horns, the hum of the driers twenty-four hours a day from downstairs, the neighbours he could hear through his paper-thin walls. Jingles from a television on too loud, someone’s car stereo, people calling to each other, buses hissing as they stopped, people dragging their feet on the tarmac…

On top of that, despite the references he’d been given from the prison dog trainer, from his case worker and parole board, every attempt at getting a job was met with rejection. Some were kinder than others.

_ We aren’t hiring at this time, thank you. _

_ While I appreciate the effort you took to reach out, you aren’t the sort of person we would like to have working here at Plant Barn. _

_ We don’t hire Omegas. _

_ Unfortunately, you need at least three years experience in the service industry before we can even consider your application. _

_ The position has been filled internally. _

By the end of the first week, Will had lost much of the enthusiasm he had had going out into the world. He missed the routines of prison; he missed being on a schedule, he had no idea what to do with the hours in his day, now, when he had the freedom to do anything he wanted. He tried to build one up, getting up at a certain hour, making breakfast in a regimented way, but without anyone to answer to, without the tooth-rattling horn to mark the passage of time through the day, Will was unmoored.

18 years of prison-grade suppressants completely eliminating his Omega traits also had their side effects. Slick had never been a problem before, but now he seemed to be regularly dripping at the faintest sign of arousal. He could smell his own pheromones. Often, he was nauseous and lightheaded from the withdrawal. 

Will had managed to get government insurance, but he wouldn’t be able to see an Omega specialist for another two months. He wanted to shut down his body completely until then, but life continued to happen. 

He couldn’t get a job or a doctor’s appointment, but he  _ did _ manage to get in touch with a psychiatrist. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He continued to be unsure right up until the very minute he knocked on Doctor Hannibal Lecter’s door, and immediately panicked. 

The boy in Hannibal’s doorway - for there was something entirely boyish about him, despite his age - was a mess. He’d buttoned his shirt improperly, his curls had begun to grow out from their prison cut in a haphazard, untamable fashion, and he had not yet learned how to appropriately utilize scent-blocking sprays. His intriguing scent flooded the office almost immediately. He didn’t quite smell fertile, and likely wouldn’t until this heat cycle was through, but he was overwhelmingly sweet and welcoming. A scared, overwhelmed Omega radiating “help me” to any Alpha who could scent him properly.

“Umm…" the boy stammered. “I’m... I’m Will Graham?” His voice ticked up at the end, uncertain. He thrust out his hand like he’d only just learned the concept, and Hannibal shook it with concealed amusement. 

“Mr. Graham, please come in,” Hannibal stepped aside and waited for Will to sidle through; old prison habits dying hard, it would seem, he kept himself as close to any wall he could find and made himself as small as possible when he had to be near another. Curious but unsurprising. What was surprising, was how nervous the young man was. His file had spoken highly of his academic achievements in prison, he had been granted privileges and offered opportunities to better himself. He had been one of the last to suffer the inhumane law that allowed Omega youth to be tried as adults and condemned to adult facilities, but he had come out better for it, rather than broken.

So the file said.

The reality, it would appear, was quite different.

“Take a seat where you feel most comfortable,” Hannibal added, closing the door and following the young man in. Will’s eyes flicked between the chairs set up clearly for the purpose of therapy, the sofa by the wall, the chaise by the window. Eventually he crept to one of the chairs and perched on the edge of it, back straight, hands in his lap, feet together.

Regimented.

Trained.

Very, very pleasing.

“I’m - I’m afraid I’ve never done this before,” Will said after a while, when Hannibal had taken a seat across from him. “We had counselling in… we had groups and individual work but I’ve never come to someone like you on my own before.”

“That is hardly a problem, Mr. Graham, this isn’t an exam one must study for. The mind is a malleable thing, as you well know. Consider this an experience, rather than a test.”

Will breathed out shakily, something close to a laugh, and ducked his head on an awkward nod. Hannibal watched him a moment more before reaching for his file. He noted how quickly the young Omega’s eyes drew to it like a magnet, staring, tension palpable in his form.

“I’ve worked with many people after their incarceration, Mr. Graham, I understand the trepidation you must be feeling coming back into the world that has so changed since you were last in it.”

Will nodded along. “Smart phones nearly floored me,” he said. “Everything’s so… the technology, the  _ people.  _ I can barely breathe.”

Hannibal nodded along. “Everyone in your prison was on suppressants, correct?”

“And the guards had prescription scent blockers,” Will agreed. “The last time I smelled an Alpha, I…” He shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. 

He’d been fifteen, with a mouthful of blood and shaking hands, covered in his own slick, pants down around his knees. They’d made him talk to a counselor about it. He didn’t like to think about it. 

Hannibal had read all about it in Will’s file. ‘Mitigating circumstances,’ the defense had argued, but everyone grew nervous when Omegas displayed any form of aggression. Even now, but especially two decades ago, when Omegas had been treated far more delicately. Hannibal found it ridiculous; an Omega who viciously defended himself would be twice as vehement when defending his pups. 

“It was your first heat, wasn’t it?”

Will blinked, coming back from whatever memory he’d wandered down. “Uh… yeah. Yes.”

“You must have been so surprised. Fifteen is an unusual age for your first.”

A lovely flush crossed Will’s features. He’d be beautiful with just a bit of grooming. 

“I was small for my age,” he admitted. “I presented late.”

“Unexpected and ill-timed,” Hannibal mused. “Alone in the office. I’m so sorry, Will. A teacher should never betray a student’s trust like that.” 

Will nodded, a jerking motion, and his foot bounced a little. Will seemed unaware that he was even doing it. “No,” he agreed. “And he uh… he wasn’t a great teacher to start with, either.”

He tried for a smile that immediately fell flat. Will’s eyes were everywhere but on the man he’d come to see, a man he didn’t even have to  _ pay _ to see; he’d never be able to afford him without the prison program.

“Have you continued with the suppressants?” Hannibal asked, knowing the answer even as Will shook his head. His smell was curious, it would linger. It took a lot for Hannibal not to breathe him in now, though there was a temptation in that too, to see if old instincts would wake in the boy once more.

“No, I’ve been unable to get any. I’m waiting for -” he gestured with a shrug. Hannibal nodded, sympathetic.

“Withdrawal can take on many forms, Will, how have you been feeling?”

“Um,” Will swallowed and ducked his head to look at the floor. He noticed his bouncing knee and forced himself to still it. “I’m not sure, doctor. I’m not sure what’s related to the withdrawal and what’s just… me reacting to the world.” he looked up, seeing the Alpha’s eyes on him, but not in a way that immediately made his skin crawl. This was a soothing gaze, patient and soft, and Will took another breath before letting it out in a huff.

“My senses seem overwhelmed,” he admitted. “Like I can hear things that should be far away, but I hear them as loudly as if they were right here, within arm’s reach. I can’t sleep. It’s hard to sleep.”

“Insomnia is a common side effect of withdrawal,” Hannibal agreed. “Have there been physical changes?”

Will’s cheeks flamed with blush, and he bit his lip, glancing to the side before very gently nodding.

Hannibal could imagine the sorts of things Will had noticed in himself. Arousal was not impossible for an Omega under heavy suppressants, but sexual impotency was common. The slightest of touches probably felt overwhelming to the poor boy. “This is a safe space, Will. You can feel free to share anything with me.”

There were things Will didn’t want to share. Things he didn’t know how to talk about. His first and only sexual encounter had ended early and in bloodshed. There had been attempts in prison, but Will was quick and lucky. 

“It’s just a new range of sensation,” he said softly. “Just some things I have to adjust to.”

Hannibal nodded knowingly, looking down to rifle through his papers. “Tell me about your daily routine.”

* * *

Will didn’t get a job. He had enough in inheritance to skate by for a few months, if he lived carefully and frugally. That was no problem for him; he was still reeling at the idea that he could  _ own _ things. He’d gotten a library card, since he’d enjoyed the library cart in prison. Even the library was far too much space.

Will spent most of his time curled up in his bed with a book, trying to ignore the unfamiliar feeling of arousal. Twice a week, he saw Doctor Lecter. 

“I don’t want to go back,” Will said, hands clasped between his knees. He still couldn’t meet the doctor’s eye but he no longer sat braced for a fight every time he came to a session. “I don’t even  _ miss _ it, I -”

“You had a routine,” Hannibal continued for him. “For almost twenty years. It makes perfect sense that without it you feel directionless.”

“It feels like before, I had no choice in what I did, or at least, very little, and now I am drowning in decisions,” Will replied, shaking his head. “I’ve… I finished high school behind bars, but even there they don’t teach you… they don’t -” he swallowed and gave the doctor a helpless look. “I have no idea how to file taxes, I had to look it up. I don’t know if I have to pay the government anything from what my parents left me, I don’t have money for a lawyer to ask, I -”

With a sigh he pressed a hand to his eyes. “It’s just too much, Doctor Lecter, I feel like I’m fifteen again.”

“You missed a critical age for socialization,” Hannibal pointed out. “As a young adult, as a newly presented Omega, you only had adults around you, your hormones were suppressed, your body was not explained to you. You were also under a lot of stress in such an environment. Regression would not be uncommon.”

Will glanced up for a moment, a brief moment of meeting Hannibal’s eyes before he looked away again.

“I’ve not mentally regressed as far as I’m aware,” Will replied quietly. “I’m still fully conscious of my surroundings and situation, I know I am Will Graham, I am thirty-three, I’ve been released from prison…”

“Into an environment much more stressful than the one you grew accustomed to,” Hannibal countered gently. “Where you know no one, and speak to no one, but myself.”

“I don’t -” Will swallowed back his argument. Both of them knew he hadn’t made friends. He hadn’t made the effort to. He didn’t even bother looking up old schoolmates on social media, there would be absolutely no point in the matter.

“You know all the rules,” Hannibal smiled. “You have the same handbook I do, but self-diagnosis and self-medication is a tricky business, when one is overly aware of textbook examples of their own diagnoses. You need guidance. It’s why I’m here, Will, I’m here for you.”

“It’s hard to accept your help when I know what you’re doing.” Will said. “How do I let the tricks work on me when I know what they are?”

“Trust.” Will bit his lip, glancing away. Hannibal pressed onwards. “Let go of your strict grip on yourself. You already know that directing yourself isn’t helping, why not allow someone else to lead?”

It sounded good. A lot of what Hannibal said sounded good. Tempting. Therapy had a way of making Will feel simultaneously uncomfortable and cared for. Hannibal seemed to genuinely want to help him, and Will wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

Hannibal could see how hard Will was trying. He staggered along through each session, looking to Hannibal for approval with a desperate hopefulness that Hannibal found endearing. He needed to be taken into hand, trained and coaxed. He bent so beautifully to guidance.

But then he missed a session. He had never done so before, and Hannibal found it unlikely he’d become tangled up in some more pressing matter. More likely, he’d fully ripened, the sweetness that had been building in his scent fully taking form. Hannibal was saddened to have missed it, but the first was unlikely to be anything too extravagant. 

The  _ second _ , though… The second, Hannibal would see up close. 

And there was no reason he couldn’t help Will through the aftermath of this one. 

Hannibal’s decision to find Will’s address through his paperwork may have bordered on unethical, but ethics often stood in the way of doing what was morally right.

And everyone’s moral compass swung over North once in a while.

Hannibal waited the customary three days; the first heat after a suppression was often shorter but much more brutal. Pains and nausea alongside the aching need to be filled and knotted. He expected that Will hadn’t properly prepared for it, either, unsure of how to deal with a heat at all.

Poor thing.

He knocked on Will’s door briskly late morning on a day they would have otherwise met in the afternoon for a session and waited. He could smell through the thin door the cloying sweetness of an Omega’s heat and girded himself against it, breathing in just once to fill his lungs and to store away the olfactory trigger for later perusal in the memory palace.

The way Will looked when he opened the door would have brought a lesser man to his knees, but Hannibal was above such things. He took in the rumpled appearance, sweat-slick hair curled every which way, stubble that shadowed the edges of Will’s jaw, the only thing on his face to suggest he was anywhere near his age at all. His eyes were bright, red-rimmed, and the reflective gold membrane just barely present when he met Hannibal’s eyes and widened his own.

“Doctor Lecter! I’m -”

“I imagine you’ve been quite unwell, Will.”

Will stammered wordlessly, a flush stealing over his face. It only added to the appearance of arousal. Hannibal imagined he’d look much the same spread out over Hannibal’s sheets. 

“May I come in? I’ve made you something to bolster your energy.” Hannibal held up the container, an offering of peace.

Will seemed to take in Hannibal’s suit versus his own somewhat haggard dress, and shook his head. “I’m not prepared for company. I’m…”

Will’s intended word was no doubt something like ‘a mess’ or ‘indecent.’ Hannibal’s mind helpfully supplied ‘delicious’ alongside them.

“I was a surgeon before I was a psychiatrist,” Hannibal assured him. “There’s nothing you could show me that I would find upsetting, Will. And you’ll need to refuel after an exhausting heat.” He waved the container once more, a temptation rather than an offering this time.

Will wavered. He felt gross. He needed a shower. He was pretty sure slick was still leaking from him. But Hannibal either couldn’t smell it or didn’t care, and he was  _ starving _ . He’d survived on Pop-Tarts and water directly from the tap for three days, and he could smell the sausage Hannibal had brought even through the thick plastic lid of the container.

“Alright,” he said, “Please forgive the mess.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” Hannibal assured him.

Within, the apartment was miniscule and worn. Accommodations fit for a student’s first room away from home, which was rather fitting. There was a kitchen area with a hotplate and fridge, a small table with two mismatched chairs by a grimy window overlooking the street Hannibal had parked on.

Around the corner and behind a flimsy door, Hannibal assumed was Will’s bedroom, and the apartment’s only bathroom. You could hear the neighbours from both sides through the walls, and the cars outside. No wonder Will felt overwhelmed.

Not a place he would like any Omega living, let alone one he’d set his eyes on. He made no comment to Will, allowing his calm body language to speak for him and ease the younger man to a calmer state. He reeked of pheromones and release, and Hannibal found his eyes slipping to Will’s throat, unmarked and aching for a bite.

Hannibal set his offering to the table and Will immediately jumped into action seeking out plates and cutlery for them. These didn’t match either, and Will flushed deeper. He could only imagine how he looked through Hannibal’s eyes; far from anything distinguished, though he’d hardly made that sort of impression during their sessions either.

“I’m sorry, I wanted to get in touch to apologize for my absence, but -”

“Heats are often overwhelming,” Hannibal finished for him, reaching to dole out a portion of the food to Will first. “Especially the first after a suppression of years-long duration. I can only imagine it was extremely uncomfortable for you.”

“I didn’t really remember the last one,” Will admitted. “They give you emergency suppressants when they take you in. I had it for maybe four hours total by then all was said and done, and most of that was a blur. It was….” He glanced away, face and neck flushed hot. “It was intense.”

Intense, unpleasant. Will had bitten clean through a pillow in his attempt to keep from screaming, not wanting to disturb the neighbors. He hadn’t had anything on hand, hadn’t thought to purchase a toy. He was never going to look at a hairbrush the same way again. He’d already thrown the old one away. 

Hannibal waited to take a bite until Will had absentmindedly taken his first. He’d been raised with an etiquette that had been outdated even then, and was all but a forgotten art at this point. Alphas were meant to provide, after all, and any Alpha that ate while their Omega sat with an empty belly was a poor excuse for an Alpha indeed. 

Will’s distant look vanished almost immediately after his first bite. He forgot his manners entirely, eyes wide as he dug into the meal Hannibal had brought him. It gave Hannibal no small amount of joy to see him so pleased. Will was nearly halfway through the plate when he finally managed a slightly embarrassed ‘thank you.’

“This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” Will told him.

Privately, Hannibal thought it was poor praise. He’d have been disappointed in himself had he been unable to outdo high school or prison cafeterias. 

“Think nothing of it,” Hannibal assured him. “I want to help you, Will. You deserve to be taken care of, the way an Omega  _ should _ be.”

Will made an involuntary little sound that he immediately wished he could take back. It was weak, whimpering, eager. He’d done enough reading, had seen enough of his peers present early to know what that sound meant, and he hated that Hannibal had to be privy to this humiliating rediscovery of himself. Surely he had better things to do. Surely he had a mate already, someone lucky enough to see this man every night and wake up to him every morning.

The fact that he was crushing on his doctor was met with no small amount of derision on Will’s part.

How many more stereotypes could he become in his lifetime?

“I appreciate that,” he murmured, and it was true. He moved some of his food around the plate a moment, nervous and unsure. “I’m… my education is out of date by about a decade. I’m unsure what techniques are favored with psychology now. I’ve been thinking on what you said about… trust.”

Will licked his lips quickly and folded his arms over his chest protectively. Someone would have to be blind to not read that expression for what it was. Hannibal allowed Will a moment to gather himself, his own mind elsewhere as he committed to memory the way Will blushed, the way his hair haloed his head, how he smelled, his  _ eyes… _

“I would be open to trying anything,” Will offered after a while. “Anything that I’ve… not read about or studied. Anything you think could help me.”

Hannibal hummed thoughtfully. “I worry about you, Will.” He said slowly. 

Will flinched. He’d heard that before. Mostly in his childhood, but even in prison.  _ I’m worried about you, Will, you aren’t making many friends at school. I’m worried about you, Will, this reading isn’t appropriate for your age. I’m worried about you, Will, you’re too pretty for a place like this. _

“You don’t need to worry about me,” he said hastily, “I’m doing fine.”

The lie was so blatant that neither of them dignified it with any further discussion. Hannibal was not going to pretend he’d believed it, and Will was not going to pretend it had been worth defending. Hannibal continued as though Will hadn’t spoken. 

“We are pack creatures, all of us. Omegas more than most. You’re very isolated here.”

Will bit his lip. “I don’t know where else to go,” he admitted. “It’s not like high school. I can’t just sign up for chess club and pretend to make friends.”

“No, definitely not,” Hannibal said, smiling. “Perhaps you should work on one connection at a time. Improving that. Learning how to appease your Omega instincts.”

“The only person I talk to is you,” Will pointed out. 

“A brave start, then,” Hannibal’s smile grew. “Your first friend an Alpha, not one of your dynamic. You’ve already surpassed many of your contemporaries.”

Will snorted. “I highly doubt it. I’m too old to mate, I have no job, I have no chance to gain one, since apparently you need experience to wash dishes in this city.” Will bit his lip, bitter tone swallowed with another delicious mouthful of food. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I try not to be jaded but… I’m well aware of the recidivism rate of released prisoners in my demographic.”

Will’s throat clicked on the last consonant and he stared down at his plate in silence. He hadn’t addressed Hannibal’s use of ‘friend’ to describe the two of them. Were they friends? Will had never had many, even before his troubles started. As a pup he’d been too awkward, gangly, with huge glasses and threadbare clothes, as a teen he’d presented late and any attention cast his way was one of jealousy and resentment for how he’d bloomed into his own. In prison…

You didn’t make  _ friends _ in prison.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when Hannibal rested a hand against the back of Will’s on the table, heartbeat rocketing and pounding in his ears.

“I won’t let that happen, Will,” Hannibal murmured. “You have all the eagerness for a good life, a new one, it is only circumstance that prevents you immediately starting it.”

“Can’t change those.”

“No,” Hannibal inclined his head, letting go of Will’s hand. “You may not be able to. But I may.”

Will blinked up at him, cautious and curious at once. He wanted Hannibal to touch him again. Hell, he wanted  _ anyone _ to touch him. The last physical contact he had had before shaking Hannibal’s hand in his office was the medical officer checking him over for smuggled contraband on the day he was released. Before that, he didn’t care to think of much.

_ We are pack creatures _ .

Will wasn’t sure he had a pack.

“There are new therapies,” Hannibal continued, unaware of the turmoil in Will’s mind. “As with anything new, some see them as controversial, but their effectiveness is inarguable.”

Will’s exposure to contemporary psychology had been extremely limited. He was almost painfully eager for Hannibal to give him something to work with,  _ anything _ to make him feel like he was getting somewhere.

“I’m sure you’ve seen therapeutic roleplay discussed in your studies,” Hannibal said. “You are an Omega who has been denied your instincts for nearly two decades. You need to learn how to submit to them again, how to properly interact with yourself and with others. You need structure, routine. I can offer you those things.”

Hannibal’s eyes were warm. Will kept losing himself in the deep brown, distracted. He must have still been feeling the remnants of his heat. He couldn’t possibly be this lost to an Alpha just because he was the only one he knew. 

“What are you suggesting?” Will asked.

“I’d like you to come stay with me for a while,” Hannibal said, as if it was a perfectly ordinary suggestion to make. “For all intents and purposes, I would be your Alpha. I would give you the care and structure you need. Set a routine for you. Discipline you if necessary. We would have play sessions where I helped you handle natural Omega instincts. No one has ever taught you how to be an Omega, have they? You’ve been sorely neglected, and then thrown out into the world on your own, when Omegas were never meant to be alone.”

Again that  _ whimper _ that Will just couldn’t control. Every instinct in him screamed for him to agree, to have Hannibal take care of him, to have Hannibal teach him and guide him. Will had been around Alphas all his life, but he hadn’t been near one without suppressants since -

“I’m -” he bit his lip. “I would hate to impose. You have other clients, and you’re seeing me pro bono, Dr. Lecter, I can’t accept.”

“Consider it a personal favor, then,” Hannibal amended, sitting back in his chair as Will looked at him again, brows drawn in hopeful confusion. “I have only ever read about this technique myself, a chance to put it into practice would help me in the professional sphere more than I could begin to tell you.”

Sitting forward, Hannibal folded his hands on the table, fingers threading together as he looked at Will. “Your participation would be invaluable to me, Will, should you consider accepting.”

Will tried to say no. He took a breath and opened his mouth and everything. 

But then he looked at his mismatched plates, his mismatched life. The tiny home he still felt alone in. So very,  _ very _ lonely. 

“Okay,” Will said. He looked startled by his own words, blinking helplessly at Hannibal. Poor, sweet thing. So desperately in need of a firm hand to guide him. “I... I guess we can try it? It’s not like I have anything else to do.”

“Excellent,” Hannibal said. “Now, for the purposes of this experiment, I would be acting entirely as your Alpha would. I want to warn you that it may be a bit overwhelming for you at first. I will prepare your rules and schedule ahead of time, so that there will be no surprises.”

“When can we start?” The hopefulness in the boy’s voice was impossible to ignore. Hannibal could only imagine how badly his instincts had overwhelmed him during his heat.

“Why don’t we convene at the start of the weekend?” Hannibal suggested. “I’ll prepare dinner for us both Friday night. Around seven?”

Will nodded, so plainly eager that Hannibal wanted to take him home right then and there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It all sounded familiar, safe, but slightly…. old-fashioned?_
> 
> _Or maybe it wasn’t. Will didn’t have any Omega friends to compare with. And he wanted it. He wanted it all so badly._

Friday came too quickly; Will had been so nervous about the entire arrangement from the moment Hannibal packed up the remains of the meal he’d brought Will and left his shitty little apartment, and up until the moment he exited the cab outside the grandest house he had ever seen.

He had received Hannibal’s list of rules, and his schedule, through email. He had received instructions on how to dress for dinner earlier that day and had made the effort to purchase what Hannibal had asked of him.

He felt entirely overdressed, and clutched his duffel bag tightly in front of him. It contained the entirety of his worldly possessions, all his meagre clothes, the books he had started to slowly accumulate. The apartment stood empty, now. Paid up until the end of the next week but for all intents and purposes vacated already.

Will swallowed, adjusted his tie against his throat and forced himself to straighten his shoulders as he stepped up to the front door and knocked. He was right on time, 7pm.

Hannibal had been waiting for him. He let Will into the entryway, taking his bag and coat from him. He looked over Will’s clothes. Not as fitted as he might have liked, but there would be time to properly outfit his Omega later. 

“Good boy,” he praised, tucking Will’s hair back behind his ear. He had not yet decided if he would ask Will to keep it short, or if he wanted enough to run his hands through. Feeling the curls between his fingers, he was leaning towards the latter. 

Will stiffened at the praise, at the soft, soft touch to his hair. He had known what they were going to do, he had known it was going to start fairly quickly, but he wasn’t sure he was ready. He wanted to fall into Hannibal at the very first touch. 

And then Hannibal leaned in, tucking his nose under Will’s jaw, breathing him in. He nuzzled against Will’s scent glands, the kind of casual, possessive scenting that he’d only seen in bonded pairs before.

Will’s breathing stuttered. He didn’t know what to do with himself, until Hannibal gently cupped the back of his head and guided him to return the scenting. Right. Touch acclimation. Developing trust. Therapy to teach Will how to interact in the real world.

If the real world felt like this, how would he ever get through it?

Will breathed in, a tentative little sniff so as not to appear too eager, and nearly moaned with the sensation of  _ peace _ that washed over him like a wave. Whatever panic he’d come with, whatever worries, he sighed them out along with a soft little whimper of sound. When he breathed in next, it was deeper, enough to relax his muscles entirely, a warmth spreading through him like water from a hot bath.

When Will pulled back his eyes were glazed, and Hannibal’s smile didn’t help the blush that crept up his neck.

“This is how we will greet each other,” Hannibal told him. “Smell is the most important sense you have, Will, and with suppressants no longer blocking the proper receptors in your brain, you’ll be able to hone it daily.”

Will nodded slowly, eyes on Hannibal’s still, hypnotised by him, wanting nothing more than to lean into him again, to be held tight and made to feel  _ safe _ .

But it wasn’t proper. This wasn’t a relationship, they weren’t courting or bonded, this was a scientific experiment, a new therapy, this was work, and it was important that Will stay on track with it.

“You may call me Hannibal if you wish,” the doctor continued, gesturing for Will to follow him deeper into the house. Will didn’t even notice how enormous all the rooms were until they entered the kitchen, and then he had to hold onto the door a moment to regain equilibrium again. This house was  _ palatial _ . “I expect that you’ve read the documents I’ve sent you?”

“Yes, Hannibal.”

“Good. Have you any questions?”

It had all seemed fairly straightforward, yet Will hesitated. He’d seen the strides Omegas had made since he was incarcerated, but Hannibal’s rules seemed so much more like the things that had been the standard when Will had been a young child in the south. Deference to Alpha. Obedience. Hannibal had even set aside time to practice kneeling posture, and expected etiquette for an Omega at a formal occasion. 

It all sounded familiar, safe, but slightly…. old-fashioned? 

Or maybe it wasn’t. Will didn’t have any Omega friends to compare with. And he wanted it. He wanted it all so badly. “No, Hannibal.”

Will was going to take this seriously. He would throw himself wholeheartedly into everything Hannibal wanted of him. 

God, would his heart ever stop racing?

“Traditionally, the preparation of meals would fall to the Omega, as with most household duties,” Hannibal explained, inspecting something in the oven. “However, I’m afraid cooking is a bit of an obsession of mine, and I could never give it up. Instead, you may set the table and pour the wine. I will be seated at the head. You may take your seat when you are done.”

It was all very blunt, very matter-of-fact. It made it easy for Will to fall right into it without a moment’s thought, gathering dishes and cutlery from where Hannibal indicated, making trips for wine glasses and cloth napkins. He settled into his seat with a vague, hazy, hopeful feeling of having done well. 

He tried to think back to his own family dinners, when he’d been a pup, before one of his parents had died. He remembered his father being strict but never cruel… or maybe he just didn’t know any better at the time. He could barely picture their faces, now. His father had only visited him in jail once, and he had never been a particularly good letter writer.

And then he’d died, too.

Will blinked himself out of his daydreams when he heard Hannibal’s footsteps coming closer. He straightened his shoulders, tried to look like he belonged at a table where the cutlery matched and the plates weren’t cracked and the napkins were cloth, not paper. Hannibal’s gentle hand on his shoulder nearly pulled a moan from Will.

“Very good, Will.”

The words sang in Will’s chest like a choir and for a moment he couldn’t breathe. He watched Hannibal plate their dinner, something that smelled divine and looked even better, and waited patiently to be told what to do next. He knew that one didn’t eat before their Alpha allowed it, in private, in public or at gatherings, an Omega did not eat at the table with Alphas at all. He licked his lips and waited.

Hannibal sat himself at the head of the table and gestured for Will to take up his cutlery. “I enjoy seeing an Omega taken care of,” he said, when Will looked perplexed. “When we are at home, I would like you to start once we’ve both settled. Meals need not be formal affairs, but they do make for good practice of other behaviors you will learn and need to practice.”

Will immediately cut himself a bite, not wanting Hannibal to have to wait any longer. It was just as good this time as it had been earlier in the week, and for a moment, he closed his eyes just to savor it. 

When he opened them again, Hannibal was smiling. 

“I’ll see you well-fed,” he promised. Omegas, in Hannibal’s opinion, should be delicate things, yes, but not scrawny. They required proper nutrition to bear and nurse pups, and Will currently looked malnourished. Hannibal had snuck a peak at the state of his pantry and completely understood why. 

For his part, Will blushed and ducked his head, hiding his hesitant smile in another bite. 

Hannibal did not intend to discourage conversation. For formal occasions, they would practice silence, but when it was just the two of them, dinner was a wonderful time to discuss the days events. Tonight, however, he allowed Will his adjustment period, his quiet contemplation. 

“Thank your Alpha for the meal,” he instructed when they had finished. “It’s important to show proper gratitude.”

“Thank you for the meal, Alpha,” Will parroted obediently. 

“Just Hannibal, for now,” Hannibal replied with a smile, watching the way Will ducked his head again, but didn’t let his smile wane.

“Thank you for the meal, Hannibal.”

“You’re most welcome. Now, if you would be so kind as to wash up. You may leave the dishes to dry on the rack, I will show you in the morning where everything goes. I expect you’re used to keeping your surroundings clean, with the routines you learned incarcerated?”

Will nodded, blushing. The one time Hannibal had seen his home it had been a mess, the one time Will had not had the wherewithal to manage that on top of everything else. Hannibal inclined his head, pleased, and gestured for Will to take up their plates and cutlery and return them to the kitchen.

“I like to read in the evenings, in the study,” Hannibal told him, watching Will through the doorway leading into the hall a moment. “Please join me when you’re finished. It’s the room at the very end, the light will be on.”

Will nodded again, unsure if he should say something. But Hannibal didn’t correct him, so Will didn’t ponder it further. Washing dishes wasn’t beneath him. In truth, nothing was, but he’d seen some of the Beta and even Alpha prisoners almost throw full brown tantrums when their work detail was laundry or the kitchens. Perhaps it did come naturally to Will to be pliant and obedient. Perhaps it was just the relief of having someone tell him what to do again, after several confusing months without.

When he was finished he made sure the counter was dry, the towel folded where he had found it, his own clothes in order. Then he made his way to the study, finding it without trouble. Tentatively, he knocked on the door jamb and smiled when Hannibal looked up. He gestured for Will to come in.

“Take a seat where you’re comfortable,” Hannibal told him. “You may look around if you like, take a book of your choosing. You’re welcome to peruse the library, in fact, I encourage you to keep your mind busy with any topics that catch your fancy.”

Will peeked tentatively at the shelves, his fingers tracing the spines. He could feel Hannibal’s gaze on him, his face growing warmer and warmer. Eventually, he plucked something from the shelves at random, unused to being the center of such attention. 

There were plenty of places to sit. One chair sat directly in front of the warm fire, but Will found himself drawn to the sofa Hannibal had claimed. He curled up on the other end of it, a cushion of space between them, but Will still felt so close that he could barely read the title page. 

It was quiet. Comfortable, despite Will’s nervousness. Hannibal read. Will attempted to read, though he kept finding his attention drawn to Hannibal instead. 

It really made no sense that Hannibal was unmated. He was wealthy, attractive. Will found him engaging, no matter what they discussed. He could have had any Omega he wanted. Will wasn’t sure, but he thought there might even still be a few Omega centers running where Omegas with no one to care for them could be matched. He hadn’t bothered to look; his criminal record would have disqualified him. 

He could not feel bad for Hannibal’s lack of a mate, not when it led to his own good fortune. But it did remind him that his place here was temporary. One day, Hannibal would find someone to take Will’s place, and Will could only hope he’d learned enough by then. 

Ironically, it was when Will had settled into reading comfortably that Hannibal called his name, drawing his attention up to him again. He gestured for Will to sit closer, which Will did, once he’d awkwardly set his feet to the floor again. When he was near enough, Hannibal leaned in to scent him again, his nose drawing against the line of Will’s pale, lovely throat. Will trembled, eyes closing in pleasure.

“It is important to me that you’re comfortable here,” Hannibal told him, lips so close Will could feel them tickling his skin. “For you to get used to physical contact and affection. Omegas are naturally affectionate, they need touch in order to develop into healthy and stable mates.” He brought a hand up to stroke a curl from Will’s forehead, settling it behind his ear, relishing the little sound Will made at the touch.

“I encourage you to seek touch out, Will, when you need it. When we are alone, I will rarely disallow it.”

Will opened his eyes and looked at him, searching, chewing on a question before he finally let himself ask.

“May I touch you?”

“Of course.” Hannibal smiled at him, so genuine that Will didn’t know what to do with himself. His hands were shaking as he reached out, so shy and uncertain. 

Hannibal’s hands were slightly calloused, with long fingers. Will traced over them almost reverently, before hesitantly lifting Hannibal’s hand from the sofa. He settled it around his own shoulders, looking to Hannibal for approval. Hannibal gave him a reassuring squeeze and pulled Will in along his side, his arm slipping down to wrap his waist instead. 

That was even better. It made Will feel truly  _ held,  _ safe and secure. He tilted his head, hesitating only a moment before leaning in to nuzzle at Hannibal’s scent glands. 

God, he smelled good. Will was dizzy with it, unable to pull back. He whined, properly this time, no hesitance choking it. He pressed his entire face against Hannibal’s throat, pawing at his chest as he took in deep lungfuls of him. He wanted to stay here all night, tucked into Hannibal’s throat. He was warm all over, slick again so easily, just from a  _ scent _ . 

Hannibal stroked slowly up and down Will’s ribs, enough to tickle and drive Will a little closer against him. He was such a needy little thing, touch starved and craving it more than any other Hannibal had ever met. He was perfect. He allowed Will his shameless nuzzling, turned his head and hummed quietly as he breathed in Will’s sweetness from the silky curls of his hair.

He would be impossible to resist in the throes of heat, Hannibal’s mouth watered at the very thought of it. 

He caught Will’s hand, gentle enough that it didn’t come across as a reprimand, and kissed his fingertips before easing away from him. Just enough so that Will wasn’t almost halfway into his lap - though that took more willpower than Hannibal anticipated. He drew his knuckles over Will’s cheek, eyes on Will’s own, impressed and glad that Will met them now, more than he had before.

“An Alpha’s scent is soothing to an Omega,” he told Will softly, “as you well know. I would like you to not feel ashamed to ask me, if you need that comfort. Many things we will work through will push you to places you haven’t been before, possibly make you uncomfortable.”

“Therapy is never easy,” Will agreed, allowing a smile but ducking his eyes, demure. “Thank you, Hannibal.”

“Good boy,” Hannibal praised him softly, turning his nose once more against Will’s temple before extricating himself from the Omega’s warm embrace. “I usually sleep late, but as we adjust to this together, I will take a few weeks to join you in bed earlier so you can build a routine.”

Will blinked quickly at him, cheeks florid with color. “Join m-” he swallowed. He hadn’t expected that they’d -

“This is a fully immersive, therapeutic tool, Will,” Hannibal reminded him. “We will emulate a relationship in every way propriety allows us.” he held his hand out, palm up, to Will. “Come. I will show you our room, and tomorrow give you a proper tour of the house.”

‘Their’ room was up the stairs and down a long hallway. Two doors were closed, but Will saw at least two perfectly serviceable guest bedrooms. His hand trembled in Hannibal’s; Hannibal merely gave it a squeeze in return. 

It wasn’t as if this was going to go anywhere inappropriate, and yet Will felt nervous as though it was. He had never shared a bed with anyone. Hell, he’d never slept in a bed  _ big enough _ . 

The room had a dark navy wallpaper, a looming dresser and wardrobe set, and a surprisingly delicate-looking vanity. It also had a suit of samurai armor that Will was not going to question. 

Hannibal’s bed - now ‘their’ bed, Will supposed - was a huge monster of a thing. Pressed up against a wall, with thick, heavy bed curtains that had been tied open. The bedding looked impossibly soft. Will was afraid to touch it, afraid to somehow mar it with his presence. 

“I’ve no idea what your sleeping arrangements have been so far, but it’s unlikely you’ve been able to properly nest,” Hannibal explained. “Omegas typically feel safer in comfortable, enclosed spaces, protected by their Alpha.”

Thus, the wall and the curtains. Will felt an overwhelming curiosity, an urge to burrow into the blankets and undo the ties so he was surrounded by dark and warmth. He resisted, instead following Hannibal to the dresser. 

“These three drawers will be yours,” Hannibal explained. “I’ve taken the liberty of acquiring some things I thought you might find comfortable.”

Will flushed, ducking his head and raising his eyes to Hannibal. He nodded, and Will reached to open the drawers. Carefully folded, lay undershirts and boxers, socks. Pyjama tops and bottoms. In another drawer, shirts, henleys and button-downs, t shirts so soft Will wondered if they were made of silk. In the last drawer, pants, jeans, corduroys, cotton.

He swallowed thickly and looked up at Hannibal again.

“Thank you, Hannibal, I -”

“Need to feel safe and comfortable and cared for,” Hannibal finished for him, stroking Will’s hair gently from his face. “Now, dress for bed as you would like. Wash up in the bathroom, then come back here to me.”

In prison, they had been issued two sets of uniform - overalls and a set of pants and shirts separately - and three sets of underwear that they were in charge of keeping clean. When Will had gone to buy himself clothes, he had opted for simple, basic, cheap things. Things that would last him long enough to settle and find his way before he’d need to buy something else.

What Hannibal had bought him felt like luxury items. They felt so soft against his skin as Will changed into them. He chose some underthings and flannel pants to sleep in, letting his hands run over them as he looked at himself in the mirror. He felt helpless, but in a way that made him want to curl up and sleep contented, rather than panic. This was what it must feel like to be bonded and wanted.

It was a nice feeling.

Hannibal was waiting when he returned, in his own pajamas. He must have used another bathroom to take care of his own washing up, his clean, natural scent tinted with mint. He gestured to the bed, just high enough off the ground that Will had to awkwardly climb into it, red faced. Hannibal assisted him with a hand on the small of his back, hot and gentle against Will’s bare skin. 

The bedding was plush, thick. There were layers upon layers, enough that Will could burrow deep if he chose, or simply cover himself with the topmost blanket. He was struck by a sudden desire to bunch some of them up around him, safe and comfortable. 

The pillows were even worse. Will placed a hesitant hand on one and let out a soft, yearning keen, high in the back of his throat. 

“It’s for you,” Hannibal told him, settling into the edge of the bed. “You can have it, Will. You should make yourself as comfortable as you need to be.”

Will looked helplessly from Hannibal to the pillows. Tentatively, he nudged a single pillow closer to the wall, the place he would feel most comfortable sleeping. In prison, he’d had a thin mattress, a stiff pillow, and scratchy sheets that were just enough to keep out the chill. This much luxury overwhelmed and scared him. 

When no reprimand came, Will took another pillow, and another, moving them just so to create a comfortable little nook to burrow into. When he was done he crawled under the blanket and pressed back against the soft wall he’d build with a quiet sound of delight. He blinked at Hannibal from beneath the blanket and felt, for a moment, like a child again. Little and playful and silly.

Hannibal’s answering smile made Will weak.

“Good, Will,” he told him, moving to get into the bed as well, with enough distance between them that Will would need to reach out quite far to get to him; safe, proper, comfortable - if a little unconventional. Will watched Hannibal settle, saw no indication that the man would pressure him into anything, but he hardly thought he would have.

“Get some rest,” Hannibal added after a moment, turning to lie on his side, comfortable showing Will his back without worry for what he’d do. “In the morning, I will show you the rest of the house, and we will begin establishing your routine here.”

“Thank you,” Will whispered, unsure he could say anything else, unsure he wanted to say anything else ever again. This was so much; too much. This was everything he’d never thought he could have, or deserved to have. “Thank you, Hannibal.”

“Good night, dear Will.”

Will thought he would lay awake for hours, as he had in his prison cell, as he had in his tiny apartment overwhelmed with noise. But the house was silent and safe and warm, and the softness around him pulled Will into slumber before he could even give Hannibal an answering farewell. He slept dreamless through til morning.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Posture proved to be the biggest issue Will had when it came to etiquette training. He was a quick learner when it came to adjusting his tone of voice, learning the proper ways to greet his Alpha, to greet another Alpha, to reply when he was spoken to and given leave to speak back. He was quick to learn how Hannibal liked for him to dress, in bed and out of it, and adapted beautifully._
> 
> _The routine was doing Will a world of good._
> 
> _But his posture…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posture training, punishments, and some unexpected reactions to it ;)

The first few days were an adjustment period. Hannibal would wake Will in the morning and send him to shower while he cooked breakfast. Will would set the table, pour the juice, do the dishes. After that, the routine depended on the day, but never was there a moment where Will had to stop and try and figure out how to fill the time. 

Hannibal wasn’t cruel, but he was firm. He did not make requests. He gave instructions only once, and Will was always quick to obey. 

In the evenings, they would curl up to read together, and Will would process nothing. He’d instead tuck his nose into Hannibal’s shoulder and take deep, satisfied breaths. Hannibal smelled like a bone-deep, aching comfort. Will seemed to be drowning in the scent. Even his own clothes smelled like Hannibal. 

He would curl up at night in bedding that reeked of Hannibal. Within three days, he had started waking up thoroughly intertwined in Hannibal, aching and practically  _ dripping  _ slick down his thighs, grateful for the cover of long pajama pants. 

On Tuesday after lunch, Hannibal initiated the part of Will’s schedule that he had not yet started. 

“Training is important,” he said, leading Will into the study. “You were neglected in prison. Ideally, you would have been properly taught about proper Omega behaviors while you were still in school. “

“We only covered the basic things in health class,” Will admitted softly. He’d done his own reading since, of course, but not having any way to put it into practice without incurring wrath or trouble in prison, he was woefully unprepared.

Hannibal just touched his hair softly in answer. No anger there, just patience. Will wanted to melt.

“It is expected that Omegas are deferential to their Alpha, and to any Alpha in their home. Be soft-spoken, polite, precise. Let yourself be seen only when you are summoned.” Again, Will felt that tug within him that told him something wasn’t quite right, that surely in this day and age the Omega and Alpha were on more equal ground, in the home, if nowhere else. But he nodded just the same.

Hannibal led them not to the couch they shared in the evenings, but one of the high wing-back chairs by the fireplace, where he took a seat. Will stood obediently before him, waiting to be told what to do.

“Kneeling is a key part of Omega domestic life that is often overlooked in training, and it shouldn’t be. How one presents themselves reflects back upon their Alpha. Your posture and carriage, the pride you take in being who you are, is what makes an Omega one their mate can be proud of.”

Will felt a flush of hopeful warmth in his belly. It made sense. He  _ wanted _ to please somebody. Specifically, he wanted to please  _ Hannibal  _ more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. 

He was on his knees before he’d properly thought it through, wriggling stiffly on the hard floor. There was only a thin rug between himself and hardwood flooring, and Will was sure it would get uncomfortable before long, but he was determined. He had faced worse discomforts. 

Will ended up kneeling somewhat haphazardly, his knees pressed so tightly together that Hannibal imagined he could hear the bones grinding, his hands fidgeting together somewhere around his chest, clearly not quite sure what to do with them. His back was slightly bowed, head twisted to peer shyly up at Hannibal. Such an enthusiastic little thing. 

“Not quite,” Hannibal said gently. He leaned down from above, guiding Will into proper position. “Knees apart,” He explained. “You should keep yourself beautifully displayed for your Alpha, and it will help with the balance. Back straight, chin up. At attention, during formal occasions, you will be expected to keep your hands behind your back. Otherwise, palms down on your thighs. We shall practice your attentive pose first.”

Will obeyed, shifting his knees wider open, his hands folding behind his back, fingers grasping the opposite wrist. He rolled his shoulders before straightening them. He lifted his chin a little too high, biting his lip when Hannibal guided it lower, parallel to the floor. He kept his eyes down to Hannibal’s knees, knowing that unless asked, or given permission, an Omega should not meet the eyes of any Alpha.

The position wasn’t uncomfortable but it was unusual. Will had slouched his entire life, even in school, and sitting up straight was proving to be a strain to muscles he hadn’t used in a while. He fidgeted with his hands behind his back, just fingers working over skin, working over other fingers, tugging the sleeve of his shirt a little. Nothing to suggest impertinence but not still as a properly trained Omega would be.

It was endearing, really, watching Will take to this so eagerly. Hannibal knew that this was one of the things Will would find very hard to get used to, and was looking forward to introducing consequences and their enforcement. He had no desire to break the boy, he was a lovely thing, if shy and cautious. But he wanted to see Will thrive as an obedient ornament, as a perfect little doll for Hannibal to show off.

Will’s shoulders started to sag about ten minutes into the exercise, and he sighed audibly, brows furrowing. Hannibal forced his lips not to tilt in a smile, forced himself to appear displeased.

“Will,”

Will looked up, shifting about until he was sitting straight again.

“You will be expected to sit for long periods of time, and you will be expected to be still throughout. It is inexcusable to fidget and fuss.”

Will swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry, Hannibal, I’ll try harder.”

“I have no doubt you will, dear boy, but I cannot be any more lenient with you than I have been, when it comes to proper etiquette.”

Will winced, and then immediately straightened back up. “I’m sorry, Hannibal.”

Hannibal hummed his acknowledgement. “Once more, Will.”

Will made sure his posture was  _ perfect _ . He wanted so badly to be good, to hear Hannibal praise him as he had been. He dug his nails into his arms, determined to keep position this time. 

There was a haziness just at the edge of his mind, some sort of paradoxical relaxation in the harsh position that he could sense but couldn’t quite reach. If he tried, if he became good enough at this, Will was sure he could lose himself in it. 

But for now, it was new, and a strain on his limbs. After a few more moments, Will began to slouch, unknowingly undoing his perfect position. 

Something snapped sharply against his left shoulder blade, an audible strike of pain that drew a startled cry from Will. 

He looked up at Hannibal, confused, and his eyes immediately flicked to the strap he held in his hand. His cheeks flushed when he met Hannibal’s eyes again, the Alpha drew the strap over his palm impassively.

“Pain is aversive, Will, it is often used in training. Assume your position again please.”

Will bit his lip and ducked his head a moment before forcing himself to straighten up again. It was harder now, not only did his muscles hurt, but his shoulder stung, and his knees were starting to feel the impact of a hard floor against them. He had no idea how he would do this for  _ hours _ , let alone  _ still _ . And now he was flooded with shame that Hannibal had had to use punishment on him, because he wasn’t good enough, because he wasn’t doing it right.

He felt himself start to slouch and made the effort to keep his shoulders straight, but it was  _ hard _ , it was putting so much pressure on his limbs and Will felt so weak, when had he become so weak?

When the strap struck him again across the back, Will whimpered and pressed himself forward on all fours for a moment, before sitting back up again.

“I’m sorry,”

Hannibal sighed. Will felt wetness brimming in the corners of his eyes. He was disappointing Hannibal. Hannibal, who had done so much for him already. He straightened, struggling back into place. Hannibal swatted each of his thighs when they weren’t spread wide enough, and Will didn’t make a sound. He drew in slow, deep breaths, and kept himself focused, determined to do it right this time.

In. Out. In. Out. Straight and even. Being good, being  _ so good _ for his Alpha. Just breathing, minute by minute, until he forgot everything but what he was doing for Hannibal. Will’s eyelids fluttered. A few more breaths, and the pain was somewhere else, somewhere distant and dull.

It wasn’t perfect, not quite, but Hannibal could see the exact moment when Will tipped over, from effort to effortless, from a struggle to obey to a slow, drifting haze. When Hannibal struck a drooping shoulder or a dropped palm, he straightened without a noise of complaint, only a soft little sigh.

This was what Hannibal wanted for him. This peace in obedience, security in submission. Hannibal could see the faint curve of a tiny cock hardening between Will’s thighs, as his sweet boy learned to find pleasure in his obedience. 

Will’s first kneeling session was an hour long, after, Hannibal gave him leave to rest and lie down, before Will joined him in the kitchen to help prepare lunch. Will didn’t speak of the punishments, and Hannibal didn’t speak of his enjoyment of it. As Hannibal prepared their meal, Will set the table and poured their drinks, and then sat quietly at the table to wait for Hannibal to come and serve them both.

Posture proved to be the biggest issue Will had when it came to etiquette training. He was a quick learner when it came to adjusting his tone of voice, learning the proper ways to greet his Alpha, to greet another Alpha, to reply when he was spoken to and given leave to speak back. He was quick to learn how Hannibal liked for him to dress, in bed and out of it, and adapted beautifully.

The routine was doing Will a world of good.

But his  _ posture _ …

“Will,” the young man’s eyes were immediately up to seek out his Alpha. Hannibal stood in the doorway of the study, watching as Will read his book, curled up in a coil in one of the wingback chairs. Will flushed dark and set his feet to the floor, biting his lip at the chastisement. He had been given permission to read as he wanted, when he had completed all other tasks set for him, but he had been told, explicitly, that he was to maintain proper posture while he did.

This was perhaps the fifth time that Hannibal had caught Will so twisted when a book engrossed him, and every time he merely uttered his name and the boy sat as he was meant to. No other punishment. Not at the minute. But now, the end of the week, several hours before dinner, Hannibal had come to remind his boy that while consequences may not be immediate, they were not going to be forgotten.

“Come here, please.”

Will did, setting his book down in the chair he had used. He stood before Hannibal with his back straight and his hands behind it, as a butler would. He ducked his head in deference and Hannibal lifted it with a knuckle beneath his chin.

“What were you told, Will?”

Will very carefully did  _ not _ fidget. He kept his hands where they were meant to be, meeting Hannibal’s eyes only when it was indicated that he should do so. “I was told to read with proper posture, Sir.”

Terms of address were easy for Will, almost instinctive. His own Alpha might one day want to be called any number of things, Hannibal had told him, but any other Alpha should be regarded as ‘Sir.’ For the most part, Hannibal allowed Will to use his name, but a bit more deference was required when Will was being chastised. He wanted it to be clear to Hannibal that he took this seriously, that he understood the gravity of the situation. 

“Were you obedient?”

Will flushed. He had not yet learned to entirely school his features. “No, Sir.”

Hannibal gave him a stern look, one that made Will want immediately to apologize. But now was not the time to speak out of turn. 

“Do you think you should be allowed to do whatever you like, Will? That the decisions should be left up to you?”

“No, Sir!” Will yelped, horrified. He could not think of a worse fate than to be abandoned to his own devices, to be severed from instruction and schedule, from Hannibal’s praise when he’d done well.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. Immediately, Will hushed himself, repeating his words in a softer tone.

“If you’re to obey your Alpha,” Hannibal said slowly, “then I think that your actions should have consequences, don’t you?”

Will swallowed quietly and ducked his head in another nod. “Yes, Sir.” he lifted his eyes when Hannibal guided him to look up again, there was a fondness there that Will could feel warm him, a fondness that told Will that Hannibal did not hate him, that he was teaching him to be better. It made Will want to turn himself inside out just so he could obey.

“A good Omega knows when to seek their Alpha for guidance,” Hannibal said. “When to scent them to soothe themselves, when to serve them to ease their day, and when to ask to be set back on the right path should they stray.”

Will swallowed again, this a little harder to go down with the lump that tightened in his throat. They had discussed such things in the lessons Hannibal gave Will on how and when to speak, but it had never come up between  _ them _ before. He licked his lips and parted them, watching Hannibal carefully as he recited -

“I’m sorry for neglecting my posture, Sir, when you explicitly told me to hold it. Please punish me for my misbehaviour so that I may learn to be better for you.”

Hannibal drew the side of his thumb over Will’s cheek. “Very good, Will. Return to the chair and set your hands to the seat.”

Will did, careful to keep his eyes on Hannibal just a moment more before turning away, out of respect. He set his hands on either side of his book and bent as he was told, chewing his lip in anticipation. He heard Hannibal come up behind him and held his breath.

“Punishments come in different forms, and each has their proper position as well,” Hannibal said. “For a whipping, you will bend at the waist and present yourself to your Alpha, legs wider than shoulder-width apart.” Will moved to obey, curling his fingers in the seat cushion. He could feel slick between his cheeks and hated that he still couldn’t control his body like he wanted. It was humiliating.

“As this is a minor infraction for a week of poor posture, you will receive fifteen lashes of the strap. Five clothed, five over your underwear, and five bare. You will thank me for your punishment after each set, and at the end of it. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” Will murmured, trembling. He didn’t even have time to take a breath before the first lash struck him, hard. He hadn’t even seen Hannibal take the implement up. He felt it like a burn against his ass, through two layers of clothing, and bit his lip not to make a sound. He took the other four silently, and released a shuddered little breath when Hannibal was through.

“Thank you, Sir,” he whispered. Carefully, he straightened up to work free his belt and the button on his pants. He flushed bright as he slid his pants down over his thighs and let them drop to his ankles, assuming his position once more, bared a little further, and waited, hoping,  _ praying _ , that Hannibal couldn’t see the slick between his legs.

Hannibal could both see and smell it. The seat of Will’s briefs was soaked through, and the room smelled so thickly of Omega that Hannibal was going to need to take some time to himself afterwards. 

The damp stain made the perfect target. Hannibal struck and watched Will gasp, his back arching, presenting himself so beautifully. He tried so hard to be obedient, to keep his noises to himself. Hannibal had nine more strikes to work a sound from him, and as he took aim again, he took a deep breath of Will’s needy pheromones.

Will’s underwear was very little protection. Each strike felt worse than the last, a white-hot burn across his backside. He was panting by the end of it, thighs quivering, palms sweaty against the chair. He felt like he was on the edge of a precipice, and it took a long moment for him to come back down, so long that he received an extra swat and a stern ‘Will.’

“I’m sorry, Sir,” Will said, his words sounding slightly slurred. He stood, hooking his fingers in the waistband of his underwear, and then froze once more. He couldn’t. He couldn’t possibly. Hannibal would  _ see _ , and then he’d know that Will was a terrible Omega who got off on being punished. He would know that Will thought about him that way, when he was just trying to help Will. Will was taking advantage of his hospitality.

But there were no other options. Will had earned a punishment, and he would have to take it. Shame-faced, he slid his underwear down, whimpering when they stuck in places, closing his eyes in humiliation when they left shiny streaks on the insides of his thighs. He bent back over the chair, trying not to cry. 

Hannibal set the strap just against his skin, not in a strike but in a soothing circling motion over the pink heat of Will’s ass.

“Will,” he repeated, softer. “Thank me,”

Will swallowed. “Thank you, Sir.”

“You have five more.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Hannibal hummed, watched a moment more, allowing himself to indulge in a deliberate look between Will’s legs, where his little cock stood fully erect. Curious, yet entirely welcome. Hannibal hadn’t considered that his other proclivities might have been catered to without training the boy, yet here he was, already responding so beautifully without even knowing it.

He didn’t give warning before he swatted Will’s ass again, hard enough that he could see the outline of the strap on his bare skin after. He didn’t hold back his strength, punished Will properly. It would make it harder for him to sit still and keep his back straight after this, and that was the point of the exercise; he would have Will obedient and beautiful for him, no matter how many licks of the strap it took.

With two remaining, Will was crying quietly. Everything ached, but worse than that, he had been a disappointment, he had let Hannibal down. And he was aroused by this. He was  _ aroused _ as Hannibal whipped him, as Will bent over for him and let him, as he  _ thanked  _ Hannibal for his punishment.

The last lash landed the heaviest and Will pressed his forehead into the back of the chair, sobbing, clinging hard to the cushion under his fingers like it would ground him. He pushed up onto his toes, sank back down, and arched his back with a plaintive little whine; wanting to appease, needing to.

“Th-thank you, Sir,” he managed, before another weak little noise filled his mouth again.

He was overheating, burning. There was not an inch of him that was not red-hot and aching. Will had never felt so  _ empty _ in his entire life, something inside him pulsing and demanding to be filled. 

Hannibal’s hand landed gently on the small of his back. Will could barely stand the touch, shaking with it. He dropped, collapsing to his knees by Hannibal’s feet.

“It’s done, Will. You’ve taken your punishment beautifully. All is forgiven.”

Will whimpered, turning to press his face into Hannibal’s slacks. His scent was stronger here, stronger even than at his glands, musky and thick, and Will knew if he trailed upwards he’d find more. 

“Will.”

A soft, pleading whine, and Will found what he was seeking, nuzzling against the bulge between Hannibal’s thighs. He smelled more of Alpha than of Hannibal here, so perfect and consuming. Will wanted to taste, to part his lips and be full of Hannibal.

Hannibal’s hand cupped Will’s jaw, trying to tilt his head back. He would want to speak to Will, but Will was beyond words, beyond sense. Instinct powered him, things that even Will had never needed to be taught. His body knew what to do. He turned on his knees, dropping to his elbows and then pressing his chest to the ground, back curved into a nearly-painful c-shape, thighs spread and ass tilted up, the perfect position to be bred. Will whined, needy and overwhelmed, senses flooded with Hannibal and his own slick, scents that pitched arousal higher and higher. 

Sweet thing, seeking to appease his Alpha in the most profound, most proper way. Hannibal was tempted, tempted to taste Will’s slick, tempted to disrobe, himself, and take him, fuck into his open, willing hole and fill him. Knot him. Breed him. Mate him.

No, not yet. Not until Will’s heat properly came in, not until Will asked for it with desperate words as he was begging for it with his desperate body.

Hannibal would not leave him unsatisfied. He wouldn’t give Will what he was asking for, but he would give him relief. He had taken his punishment so well, after all, he deserved to be reminded of how good he was, outside of minor indiscretions. Hannibal crouched behind him, soothing Will with soft sounds when the Omega whined again, aroused and confused by his arousal, seeking and not knowing what for.

Hannibal slid two fingers between the globes of Will’s ass, teasing in circles over the hungry little hole that twitched against him. Lovely, pleasing, beautiful thing. Hannibal slid both fingers into him slow and deliberate, scissoring them gently before pulling out again. He started a slow pace, enough to give Will something to arch back against, something to offer him that placated the desperate urges in him to  _ obey _ and  _ present _ and  _ pleasure _ .

“Good boy, Will,” he murmured. “Such a good little Omega, taking your punishment so well.”

Will’s breath stuttered, stopped entirely for a moment, and then pulled from him in a high, needy moan. He rocked his hips back against the fingers, desperate to pull them deeper, to be filled so thoroughly. 

Each slow thrust rubbed against a spot that made Will tear up, eyes closed as he moved. This was more than he’d ever expected, more than he could have imagined, and he was slowly losing control of his body.

Hannibal’s free hand pet at the sweaty curve of Will’s lower back. “Good Omega,” he said again. “Spread wider.”

Will’s knees slid so far apart that he could barely stay up. He sank, the angle changing until Hannibal was grinding against that spot with merciless focus. Something was coming. Something was building inside of him that he had only imagined before now, never reaching out for it. It built and built in his stomach, his little cock aching to be touched, though Will didn’t dare break position. 

He was dripping, slick and pre-come, making a mess of himself, of Hannibal’s hand, of the rug. His body trembled and tensed, a fine string ready to snap.

“Please,” he gasped, “Please, Alpha, Sir, I need.” He didn’t know what he needed. It wasn’t his job to know. But Hannibal would. Hannibal was the perfect Alpha, he would know what Will needed, what he deserved, he would take care of Will. 

Hannibal hushed him, stroking around his prostate before tormenting it again, his free hand slipping down to cup Will’s little cock, giving him something to rut into, something to rub against as he cried out and came, strings of sticky pearlescent fluid over Hannibal’s fingers. It lasted so long that Will’s whimpers turned to gasps, and then he slipped to the rug, shaking, exhausted, overwhelmed by his hormones, his body, his instincts.

He was beautiful.

Hannibal sat back to watch him for just a moment, taking in the lovely marks crisscrossed over the skin of his thighs and ass, the way his entire body trembled in the aftershocks of orgasm. Hannibal wondered, absently, if he’d ever had an orgasm before, one he hadn’t woken to from a dream. He allowed himself a taste of Will’s slick from his fingers and savored it against his tongue.

“What a good boy you are,” Hannibal praised him, working Will’s pants and underwear free from his legs and using his briefs to clean him a little before gathering Will into his lap, little and cherished. “Sweet, lovely Omega, you make your Alpha very happy. Very happy indeed,”

He stroked Will’s hair, his cheek, encouraged him to press his nose against Hannibal’s scent glands and catch his breath. In that time, he kept praising him, soft words, Will’s name, low purring sounds of a contented Alpha.

Will took in slow, deep lungfuls of Hannibal’s scent.  _ Alpha _ , his brain told him,  **_my_ ** _ Alpha.  _ This wasn’t true, of course, but maybe it could be, just for now, just for a little bit. 

Hannibal had said it, hadn’t he? Will was a good boy, a good Omega. He made his Alpha happy. Will had worked so very hard to be good, to please Hannibal in every way he could, and he finally felt like he’d done it. He felt  _ good _ .

A rumble built, first in Will’s chest, and then up through his throat. He startled in Hannibal’s lap, jerking, eyes wide. Hannibal laughed and pulled Will back against his throat. 

“You’re purring, sweet boy. It’s alright.”

Purring. Will marveled at himself, at how different he felt in just a few weeks of not being alone. He pressed his lips over Hannibal’s throat, letting his purr fill them both. It lulled him back into that peaceful state he’d been in, safe and kept in Hannibal’s arms. He wanted to be kept.

“I wish you were my Alpha,” He mumbled sleepily against Hannibal’s throat. Hannibal would be such a good Alpha. So strict and caring, knowing when to instruct Will and when to correct him. He had given Will a structure he’d been craving, keeping him together when he threatened to fall apart. 

Hannibal hummed and said nothing, soothing Will against him until he was drowsy and heavy in his arms. Then he stood, carrying his spent boy back to his nest to recover. He’d excuse Will from setting the table and helping with dinner this evening. He would wait for him to wake on his own and explain what happened, making sure Will understood how natural his responses had been, how pleasing.

And maybe, if he were very good, Hannibal would help Will with his heat. He was certain that would be incentive enough for the sweet thing to go out of his way to please, as though he hadn’t already.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In theory, he knew he should build a nest, should find some water to keep himself hydrated, and wait for his Alpha to get home, but in practice Will was terrified. What if it drove him mad again? What if, like the first time, Will attacked Hannibal and hurt him? What if he -_
> 
> _No. No, he would not let that happen, he couldn’t._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor puppy hits his heat.
> 
> ...there are breeding benches involved. Coz... well, it's _Hannibal_.

It got easier to kneel.

It got easier to wake up on time without an alarm or Hannibal gently stirring his hair with soft breaths, though Will still preferred to be woken that way.

He still joined Hannibal in the study every evening to read, but was sent to bed earlier than the doctor, to keep to his routine. Sometimes he woke when Hannibal came to bed, hours later, and sometimes he didn’t, but Will always felt safe.

He felt so safe.

It had been almost three months since they started this experiment, and Will was feeling so much more normal than he ever had before. His hormones would take a long time yet to settle, possibly years, after so long suppressed, but they didn’t interfere with his life anymore. He understood how to control his urges better, how to keep himself presentable for Hannibal.

His posture still needed work, but Will worked on it diligently, taking his punishments with gratitude and improvement, hoping he made Hannibal proud.

But one morning he woke feeling the familiar fevered panic that had brought about the only two heats he had ever had, and he whined, burying himself in the bed. Hannibal wasn’t home, he was already at work, and Will didn’t know what to do without him.

In theory, he knew he should build a nest, should find some water to keep himself hydrated, and wait for his Alpha to get home, but in practice Will was terrified. What if it drove him mad again? What if, like the first time, Will attacked Hannibal and hurt him? What if he -

No. No, he would not let that happen, he  _ couldn’t _ .

Hannibal was everything, he was all Will had. Will was frantic as he searched the house for the things he needed. He had to be ready before Hannibal came home, before Will risked being some vicious, ungrateful thing. 

Hannibal had bought bottled water for the occasion. Will lugged it from the pantry up the stairs. A box of fancy granola bars, some trail mix Hannibal had mixed himself, though Will didn’t see how it was any different than store bought. Blankets. Every blanket Will could find ended up on the bed, shoved into Will’s corner, though Hannibal had become more and more welcome in it, until they slept in more of a pile than anything else. 

The heat needs taken care of, Will turned to the problem of himself. There wasn’t much time to prepare. Hannibal had a light schedule on Fridays, he’d be home for lunch. 

There was nothing to be done about the teeth. They weren’t going anywhere. But his hands….

Hannibal knew a thousand different dishes. Setting the table took very little time, so Will often liked to watch him, occasionally helping by handing over items or picking herbs from the pots mounted on the dining room wall. Will had seen enough to know where every tool was kept. Including the cooking twine.

Seated by the headboard, curled up in his blankets, Will awkwardly wound the twine between his wrists and one of the large posts that held up the bed curtains. It was difficult to tie a knot without proper use of his hands, but between the tips of his fingers and his teeth, he slowly managed to knot the twine. That didn’t look secure enough, so he did it again, and again, until his wrists ached and his hands felt unusually chilly. Arousal was bubbling in his belly. His underwear was damp with slick. There was nothing left to do but wait.

Hannibal returned home as normal, but found that Will wasn’t downstairs to greet him. A pause, a deep breath, and that was all Hannibal needed to understand why his exceptionally obedient boy was suddenly absent from his duties. He took his time coming upstairs, prepared to find Will sweaty and needy and aching for him, but how he found Will brought anger to the surface first.

“Will.”

“Hannibal,” Will was trembling, eyes hooded, hair a tangled sweaty mess over his forehead. His hands were dark with blood, almost purple, and pressed to the headboard. “Don’t - I don’t know what will happen, I don’t want to hurt you when this takes over I - didn’t know what else to do, I don’t know what to do.”

Hannibal was on him in an instant, hands careful over Will’s cool fingers. With a soft curse he went to the bathroom for scissors and cut Will free, rubbing his numb hands between his own.

“Stupid boy,” he muttered, “you could have hurt yourself, done permanent damage pulling it so tight. What were you thinking? Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“I was scared,” Will admitted, voice hitching. “I’m still scared, Hannibal, last time I was in heat and someone was near I - I -”

“This was not the solution,” Hannibal lectured. To his relief, color slowly but steadily returned to Will’s hands, and he seemed still able to move them properly. “Your concerns are meant to be shared with your Alpha, not taken on by yourself. I should whip you soundly for this.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Will pleaded, “I didn’t know if I would be gone by the time you got here. Please, Hannibal, don’t let me hurt you.”

There was no chance of Will being a threat to Hannibal. Will’s only spike of violence had been under duress, a scared teenager about to be assaulted by an adult twice their size. But it was unlikely that logic would reach Will while he was so agitated. And there were other things Hannibal had hoped to try, eventually...

“Do you trust me to keep you safe?” He asked, holding both Will’s hands in his and placing gentle kisses to the backs of them.

“Yes, Sir.” Will swore, without a second of hesitation. 

Hannibal smiled at him, genuinely fond. Will was a good boy, better than Hannibal had dared to hope for. He stood from the bed, tugging Will along with him. “Let me show you something.”

Will followed, looking over his shoulder hesitantly when he realized they were leaving the nest and supplies behind. He followed Hannibal downstairs, and then downstairs further into the basement and wine cellar. Hannibal had shown these to Will when he’d shown him the rest of the house, but Will had no chores to do down here, and had no need to enter otherwise.

He followed as Hannibal led him to the far end of the basement, turning on lights as he went. It was a space well enough appointed that Will could tell it had a purpose, but not enough to conceal that it was an underground space. There was a rug, and shelves filled with folded towels and blankets. More water, much like the containers Will had sequestered upstairs, some food.

And a bench.

Will knew what it was from illustrations, and his throat tightened in worry. He didn’t think these were used anymore. He tensed a little, and slowed, arm stretching as Hannibal stepped nearer, not following. Hannibal regarded Will with soft eyes.

“Are you afraid, sweet boy?”

Will nodded.

“It is not an implement of cruelty, Will, it is made with the purpose of easing the pains of your heat, of keeping you comfortable and secure.”

Will had read horror stories. Omegas who had displeased their Alphas, locked in and abandoned for the duration of their heats. Or worse, convicted of a crime and locked into a bench in public, knotted by any Alpha who so chose. 

The latter, he was certain, was only an urban legend, but one that had stuck in his head. 

This was Hannibal, though. Hannibal, who would never do that to Will, who may as well have been Will’s bonded Alpha. Hannibal, who had promised to take care of him. 

“You won’t leave?” He begged. 

Hannibal brushed a kiss across Will’s fevered brow. He was still coherent, not yet in the thick of it, but it was coming. He could smell the change in Will’s sweetness. “I will do everything I can to care for you in this time,” he said. “That may involve an occasional trip upstairs. But you will never come to harm with me, Will. You should know that.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.” Will said, his response automatic. He had not yet taken his eyes off the bench. 

Hannibal helped Will out of his clothes, admiring the sheen of slick between his thighs. He’d raised the temperature in the basement, enough that Will wouldn’t freeze, and there were plenty of blankets if needed. Carefully, he guided Will into place, body braced over the bench, knees and elbows on lower pads, mimicking the presentation pose well enough that Will shuddered as Hannibal began to buckle the straps. 

Wrists and elbows. Knees and ankles. One high over Will’s back, one over his waist, and a third over his hips. There was even a strap for the head, but Hannibal left it for now. Will was already beginning to tremble, and Hannibal liked the idea of those hazy blue eyes following him as he went. 

A few pulls of the levers and the bench tilted, propping Will’s hips up to the perfect position. His little cock would be trapped against the bench, unable to achieve more than tiny traces of friction with how tightly Will was bound in place. Hannibal wanted Will’s pleasure focused entirely on being filled, being bred. 

Will whimpered and closed his eyes, turning his face into the leather beneath him. It smelled nice, clean, like everything in Hannibal’s home. He turned his hands in the restraints, or tried to, and found that he couldn’t. Good. He needed to keep his vicious nature at bay, he needed to make sure he wouldn’t hurt the only person who had ever stepped up to help him.

He could hear Hannibal walking around the room, still there, as he promised. Once in a while he passed by Will’s line of sight and Will felt the pressure in his chest ease with the reassurance.

But the pressure in his belly, that aching, cloying feeling, that didn’t ease; that grew the longer Will lay presented, mind responding to the position with the dire need to offer himself, to beg for a knot. Will assumed there would be toys, that Hannibal would use them to help Will through this, would give him something to take the fever away, to take away the ache that made him feel like his bones were burning.

This whimper sounded more strained, more desperate. Will could feel slick slip from his ass and slide over the leather and bit his lip, trembling. He wanted to ask Hannibal to talk to him, he wanted to ask him to tell him this would be okay. He wanted to hold his hand and breathe him in and pretend they were bonded, mated, that Hannibal was his Alpha, and would sweep him away to their nest and make love to him.

Stupid, stupid, stupid boy with stupid dreams and silly fantasies.

Will squirmed a little and his cock rubbed against the bench and the next noise Will made was a keening, aching whine.

He was empty, he was so  _ empty _ …

“Alpha,” he whined, nuzzling ineffectively at the leather. “Alpha please… I need you…”

A hand rested gently in Will’s hair, combing sweat soaked curls away from Will’s flushed face. 

“You must tell me what you want, sweet Omega. I would hate to take advantage of you.”

No, no that wasn’t possible. It was  _ Will _ who was taking advantage, Will who stayed in Hannibal’s home and his bed despite the dreams and fantasies. Will wanted so many things. 

Maybe Hannibal would fuck him with one of the uncomfortably large dildos Will had seen in shops, discretely sequestered and advertised as Heat Aids. Or his fingers. Maybe if Will begged prettily enough, if he was good enough, he would be rewarded with Hannibal’s fingers again, long and thick, not enough but still so good. 

“Tell me what you want, Will. I can’t give it to you if you don’t ask.”

“Knot,” Will whined, wriggling slightly in the right straps. 

“Ask properly. You know what to do.”

Everything was on fire. Will’s hole  _ ached _ with emptiness. His lessons were slipping away from his grasp, but he remembered, he remembered.

“Please, Alpha, knot me!”

Hannibal didn’t hold back the sound he made at hearing Will’s voice pull in desperation. He had known, perhaps from the moment Will Graham had stepped into his office, insecure and little, that he would have the boy. He had known, but there was still something so powerful about a fantasy coming to life, manifesting in the most sweet-smelling, eager, wriggling little thing.

And Will looked so beautiful trussed up on the breeding bench, ass up and spread, easy access for Hannibal any time he wanted.

And he  _ wanted _ .

He tugged Will’s hair a little before letting him go, drawing his hand up Will’s spine, pressing his thumb teasingly over Will’s slick hole before pulling his hand away to work his clothes free.

“You want my knot, sweet boy?” He asked, watching Will try to arch up from the position he was bound in. “You want me to breed you?”

“Yes, Alpha,  _ please _ -”

“So slick for me,” Hannibal praised, stepping out of his pants, not bothering to fold his clothes when Will was whining for him, when his hole tensed and relaxed, over and over, pulsing slick with every motion. “Such a good, little Omega.”

Hannibal leaned in to draw his tongue through the fresh slick gathered behind Will’s balls, allowing his senses to be entirely overwhelmed by the beautiful thing before him. He growled, a possessive and low noise that pulled an immediate answering whimper from Will, and when he leaned in to taste Will properly, the Omega cried out, little cock pulsing come beneath his belly, rigid and aching.

The smell of Will’s release mingled with the arousal that already fueled Hannibal’s own desire. He spread Will’s cheeks wider with both hands, spearing Will open with his tongue. Will’s body clenched and fluttered around him while Will keened, trying so desperately to rock back against Hannibal’s mouth. 

He must have felt so empty, poor thing. Hannibal wanted to take his time, to torment another climax from him with nothing but lips and tongue, but he could no longer resist the siren call of Will’s scent. He pulled away, chuckling softly at the protesting whine Will made, and braced himself over his back instead. 

Hannibal had claimed Will’s first orgasm, and his second, as he would claim every one after. No one else would ever touch his boy, no one would feel the silky heat of him clutching at them. Hannibal’s cock rubbed between Will’s cheeks, catching at his rim while Will struggled and cried. 

“Please, Alpha, knot, please!”

“Good Omega,” Hannibal growled, lining himself up. “Obedient, sweet boy. I’m going to make you so round with my seed.” The head of his cock caught, slowly stretching Will open. Will’s desperate noises stopped in favor of a sharp inhale, his breath stilling for a moment as Hannibal eased in just a bit more, making space for himself in the warm, wet channel. 

Will’s nails dug into the leather his hands were pinned to, his teeth gritted in anticipation as Hannibal continued to torment him, just the tip stretching Will, just the tip rubbing back and forth over the aching skin of his entrance.

“Please, yes,” he whined. He wanted it, he wanted to be filled where he felt so empty, he wanted to be claimed and wanted, to be someone’s sweet boy, someone’s good boy, someone’s good Omega.

Not someone’s, no. Hannibal’s.

_ His _ Alpha.

Without warning, Hannibal thrust all the way into him, cock thick and heavy, thicker than anything Will had ever felt, shoving the air right out of his lungs. Hannibal drew his hands over Will’s sweaty back, soothing him, before catching in his hair and arching his neck beautifully. He leaned close, resting a palm against the bench beside Will’s shoulder as he started a slow rhythm and built it up.

“I’m going to fill you with my seed,” he promised, “fill you up until you’re dripping with it. Until your legs are trembling and you forget your own name and all you ache for, all you  _ live _ for, is my knot.”

“Alpha, knot,  _ please _ -” Will cried, some of the leather coming up beneath his nails as he clawed desperately at his restraints. His cries pulled sharp from him with every harsh thrust as Hannibal mounted him and fucked into his boy.

“Sweet thing, will you cry for me?” he murmured, teasing his teeth against Will’s throat until he yelped, squeezing hard around Hannibal’s cock, trying to push back against him, trying to open himself up for the knot he could feel swelling at the base of Hannibal’s cock. “Such an obedient boy you are. Make yourself come for me, make yourself come, fucking back against my cock, and I’ll give you my knot.”

Will struggled, helpless and sobbing. The straps kept him immobilized as Hannibal thrust into him, but he kept trying. He was an obedient boy, his Alpha said so. He’d keep trying even if it hurt, there were no other choices, nothing else but Will and Alpha and heat. 

“Please please please.” Will’s cries were meaningless. He did not even understand himself anymore, he understood nothing but pleasure, the heavy grind inside of him. He wanted, he needed. 

Will jerked and pulled until he’d rubbed raw red lines into his wrists, trying to grind his little cock against the leather. Hannibal felt so good, and if Will was good, he’d get the knot, he’d be filled, bred. He’d give his Alpha pups, as many as he could, he just needed a little bit….

Will twisted, just a little, just a bit, and cried out at the next thrust. Again and again until he was screaming, until his body tightened around Hannibal and he was tipping over again, sparks in his belly as he came and came, pleasure rolling through him until it was too much, his cock soaked and sensitive against the leather. 

“Good Omega.”

There wasn’t even a moment to breathe. Hannibal fucked into Will fiercely, shaking the bench with his brutal movements. Will whined, oversensitive and yet eager, his body ramping back up with every movement inside of him. The knot nudged against the rim of Will’s hole, big and still growing, so close to where Will needed it. 

He whined, keening and high, and Hannibal fisted a hand in his hair and held him still as he pushed in, and past, and into Will entirely, groaning at the heat that enveloped him, and the smell of his beautiful boy mindless with pleasure beneath him. Hannibal pressed his forehead between Will’s shoulders and caught his breath as Will squirmed beneath him, adjusting to the feeling of being so full for the first time in his life.

His own orgasm made Hannibal’s vision hazy. He was very pleased indeed, that Will was so obedient, that Will was so receptive, that Will, in his innocence, was entirely Hannibal’s own to build up and nurture as he saw fit. He slipped a hand down to work free the straps that bound Will’s hips down, allowing him to rock back against Hannibal’s cock with more leverage. With a hum he slipped his palm down to stroke Will’s belly, still flat and firm, but soon, soon…

“I won’t let you up,” Hannibal promised, tone affectionate, possessive as he nuzzled Will’s hair. “Not for a moment, until I’ve put a pup in you, beautiful thing.” At the sound Will made, Hannibal grit his teeth and pulsed more seed into the Omega. “Oh, Will, you will be radiant.”

He mouthed softly at Will’s skin as his knot stayed thick and firm, keeping Will filled and full of him. Only when it started to ease, did Hannibal catch Will’s earlobe between his teeth and tug, palms smooth over Will’s sides, up his ribs, to his shoulders… it was the first time, and Hannibal already knew that he would never be able to resist this beautiful thing.

He pulled free of Will just to hear his desperate little whine, growling low as he pressed his weight over him, leaned to cover Will with his form.

“Arch your back for me,” he commanded. “Show me how desperate you are.”

Every breath was another needy whimper. Will arched, rutting mindlessly, trying to catch Hannibal’s cock against him. He was a determined little thing, squirming with more and more vigor as he failed to get what he wanted. 

“You’ll be spoiled,” Hannibal accused, pleased at the very thought. His cock was already filling again, Will’s pheromones overriding his typical refractory period. 

One more. One more and then he could see how well his boy did when denied. One more and he would see them both fed and watered. 

One more, just to feel Will fall apart around him. 

Hannibal mounted Will roughly, yanking back on his hair until he was completely immobilized. He couldn’t even respond to the bruising pace inside him, trapped in a haze of pleasure. His last orgasm had barely taken the edge off. It felt as though he hadn’t come at all, even as the thrusts forced him to drag his tiny cock through copious amounts of fluid. 

“Need,” He babbled, “Alpha, knot, need!”

“Wait,” Hannibal growled, and Will whimpered, closing his eyes in supplication as he took what his Alpha wanted to give him. It was brutal and quick, enough to leave an ache behind once Hannibal was done with him but he wasn’t yet, not just yet. Shoving his knot hard into Will he bit against his shoulder, releasing his hand to hold Will’s throat instead as he filled him again, knowing Will’s stomach would not yet be distended, would not yet show how virile his Alpha was to fill him so.

Not yet.

When his knot went down this time, Hannibal let Will go entirely, stepping back to look his fill of the red, gaped hole of his sweet Omega, clenching as though trying to find Hannibal again. Sweet thing. He would wait for his pleasure, now.

As with training, as with everything Hannibal had instilled in him, his Omega would ache for him, would be needy and beg for him, would present and plead with him, but he would be obedient to Hannibal’s whims and desires.

He moved to gather a blanket from the shelves, unfurling it and letting it drape over Will’s bare form, light as a feather. Mohair was soft and easy to clean and light, it would help Will keep up his temperature and not stifle him on the bench. Will wriggled beneath it, shaking his head to get it out of his curls, so it fell over his shoulders instead.

“Alpha?”

“Be good,” Hannibal told him, “it will only be a moment.”

“No,” Will begged, not entirely coherent but understanding the sound of Hannibal’s footsteps. “No, Alpha,  _ please _ ,”

He heard the footsteps continue up the stairs, and then the door click shut. Sobbing, Will struggled against the straps that held him. 

Will was going to die from the emptiness. He would do anything to have something inside him, a toy, his Alpha, fingers. He would have ridden his hairbrush with a breathless speed, given the chance. It hurt so badly, his stomach aching to be filled, to be made round and full. 

“Alpha!” Will shrieked, but when Hannibal did not respond, there was nothing he could do. 

Only Will’s hips were free. He could grind his cock against the bench, but nothing more, and the orgasm he managed to wring from himself after only moments did nothing to quench the burning. It had to be  _ inside _ , it had to be his Alpha. 

He was whining, desperate and needy, wondering what he did wrong for his Alpha to leave him; he must have done something terrible, something unforgivable, for his Alpha to  _ leave _ -

Door open, footfalls on the stairs, the smell of his Alpha -

“Alpha come back, please come back, I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, sir, please, please don’t leave -”

“Hush,” Hannibal crouched in front of him, stroking Will’s hair from his face, wiping the tears from under his eyes with the side of his thumb. “Hush my sweet boy, you have to eat. You’ve taken me so well, been such a good Omega, but you need nourishment. Let Alpha take care of you.”

Will whimpered and nodded, opening his mouth for a piece of fruit only when Hannibal kept his other palm against his cheek to nuzzle into. Hannibal fed him by hand, careful not to overwhelm the boy. Small portions but often. Little sips of water, but often. Too much, and he could be sick. Too little, and he would faint, no energy left to keep himself conscious through something so all-consuming.

When Will was sufficiently fed, by Hannibal’s standards, he pressed his forehead to Will’s and praised him, praised his obedience, praised his sweet little sounds.

“Tell Alpha what you want, Will.”

“Alpha,” Will sighed, blissful. “Please… breed me…”

“Is that what you want?” Hannibal asked, “to be stuffed full of me? To be bred until your stomach swells, to bear me a litter of pups, as many as I decide to give you?”

“Yes,” Will babbled in response to every question, “yes, please Alpha. Breed me, make me full, I’m so empty.”

Hannibal wasn’t sure Will even heard himself. His eyes had glazed over again, the little coherence he’d found slipping away again. He was beautiful in his need, thrusting fitfully down against the bench, his thighs covered in remnants of useless Omega seed. 

Hannibal filled him slowly this time, drawing out every thrust. He dragged Will to the peak of one climax, and then another, urged on by Will’s sensitive whines and moans. Over and over, pushing Will past exhaustion, past euphoria. 

Will had been his from the moment Hannibal saw him. Beautiful, tempting thing. Ripe to be taken and molded, eager to learn, enticed by the same proclivities Hannibal himself favored. There had never been any other option for Will. Hannibal nuzzled against his throat, finding a high spot just under his jaw, where his pulse fluttered like a bird’s wings. He waited, until Will’s warmth and tightness pulled him to the edge. His knot forced Will wide as his teeth bit down, binding them together. 

Will’s cry was thready and aching, trembling from him as he gasped and squirmed beneath Hannibal. His eyes were bright, gold pushing out almost all the blue in his irises as his lips parted wide and he keened. Hannibal rocked into him gently, over and over, pumping him full and letting his cock recover before working himself into Will once more, to fill him up again.

He would give Will pups, he would breed him every heat they shared together, he would own him entirely, body and soul, and in turn he would give Will everything. He would never be forgotten, never be alone, never be scared or unprotected or uncared for again.

Releasing his bite, Hannibal nuzzled against him, soothing Will’s weak little whines with low rumbled purrs until Will relaxed as much as he was able against the bench, floating in a haze of pleasure-pain so thick he was blinded with it.

Hannibal pushed himself up and dropped his head back, holding to Will’s hips as he waited for his knot to ease to allow him to pull out again. They could be exhausted by nightfall, rabid by morning. Will was truly glorious in heat, even more than Hannibal had imagined. He licked his lips, the taste of Will on them, the smell of him mingling at the back of his throat and stuttering Hannibal’s breathing for a moment.

He felt it, a shudder that ran through him, tensing all his muscles before releasing them again. And when he looked down at Will again, at  _ his _ Omega, pliant and needy and dripping with seed, Hannibal’s lips drew back to show his teeth.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He was testing him, Will knew, and he was weak to it._

The moments blurred. 

Hannibal’s rut was violent, vicious. He fucked Will raw and screaming, pushed him past even a heat’s ability to keep up, drew climax after climax from him until Will’s voice broke and died altogether. 

For two days, Hannibal was barely alert, only remembering to give Will water because he himself craved it. He was an animal at Will’s back, leaving bruises in the shape of his teeth everywhere he could reach. 

Heat hormones prevented Will from truly feeling pain, whether it be from Hannibal’s teeth or the leather binding him. When Hannibal returned to himself, he would take moments throughout the last of the heat to stretch each limb in turn for his pliant Omega, but before then he fucked Will until his stomach distended, growling and nipping at him in displeasure when tiny rivulets of seed leaked from him. He was soothed easily by tearful apologies and a desperate plea for more, obliging with a fierceness that would leave scratches up and down Will’s sides. 

Will drifted in and out of a haze of pleasure. It took nearly five and a half days for him to come back to himself, growing slowly aware of the gentle grind of a knot inside him, of how sticky and unpleasant his skin was, how much he needed a bath, how afraid he was to be coaxed through another orgasm. 

“Hannibal,” he murmured, when he found his words again, “Hannibal, please, no more.”

“Hush,” came the rough reply, not cruel, but a command on the same. Will did, pressing his teeth into the mangled leather beneath his face and hoping that soon this would be over. He ached. Everything ached. But this was nothing like finishing a heat alone, nothing like the pain of feeling empty and aching for more, rather than less.

He whimpered when he felt Hannibal’s knot start to go down, squeezed around him to coax a sound from his Alpha, body still determined to make him feel good despite how exhausted Will was. When Hannibal pulled free, Will winced, clenching around where he had been.

“Hannibal, please,”

“Shh,” this tone was softer, more soothing, and Will felt himself relax against the bench in the hopes that Hannibal would free him when he touched him again. He could see through hazy eyes the shape of the doctor as he moved to the shelves that housed the blankets and towels, took something from a box Will couldn’t see. When Will felt his hands on him again they were spreading him, and against his better judgement Will cried out, shaking his head.

“No, no more, please no more, Hannibal I can’t -”

What slid into him wasn’t Hannibal’s cock, but something thicker and shorter, something that filled him just enough to feel, something Will couldn’t even think about anymore before his eyes rolled back and he fainted.

“Will,” soft, gentle, a voice far away like a badly tuned radio. Will made a little noise in his throat and frowned, and a warm palm soothed over his cheek. “Darling boy, come back to me.”

Will didn’t open his eyes immediately, he let his body tell him where he was with the other senses he had working. He smelled clean. He was lying on something soft, and on his back. It was quiet, blissfully quiet. He turned into the hand touching him and finally peeled his eyes open, meeting Hannibal’s.

Oh, he was beautiful, it took Will’s breath away. He was so utterly beautiful Will wanted to cry. He wanted to reach out, he wanted to beg, plead, offer anything, to have Hannibal as his own. He bit his lip instead.

Hannibal pressed their foreheads together, filling Will’s senses. “Sweet Omega,” he praised. “You did so very well.”

Will purred, weak and stuttered, but a purr nonetheless. Slowly, the world filtered back into view. Hannibal had washed him and tucked him into their nest, curtains pulled tight but for a sliver to cast light into the bedding. Just enough to see by. Will tested his limbs and found them weak, but the ache minor. 

The plug was still seated inside him, and Will blushed when he realized, shifting awkwardly. Hannibal seemed to read his mind, smiling and nuzzling against the healing bite marks littering Will’s throat. “We’ll keep you full for a few more hours,” he said, his hand resting on Will’s belly, still slightly pouched from days of Hannibal filling him. “Give the seed the best chance to take.”

Pups. Will was not entirely sure he was ready for pups. He felt so young, sometimes, despite himself. But if Hannibal wanted pups, Will would give them to him, anything after what Hannibal had given him. 

“Hannibal,” Will said, raspy and joyous. Nothing more, just the name, the name that had saved him. 

“I think we can do better than that, can’t we?” Hannibal murmured. “After all, we are so much more to each other now. You remember your lessons.” 

Will’s flush held more pride than embarrassment now. He did, he knew his lessons, he knew the proper respect given from an Omega to his Alpha.  _ His _ Alpha, truly now. Hannibal had decided to keep him. “Alpha,” Will said, a beaming smile breaking out across his face. “Alpha, thank you for taking care of me.”

Hannibal hummed, proud, pleased, and fluttered a kiss over Will’s brow. “I always will,” he promised. He expected a lot from his Omega, he expected Will to be perfect for him. But in return, he would give Will a life he deserved. He would care for him and treat him as someone so beautiful and so innocent deserved to be treated. He would pamper him and hold him, teach him to love his body as Hannibal loved it, read with him, cook with him, spend time with him, wake up to him, just like this.

“You must tell me how you feel in the next few days,” Hannibal told him after a while. “Heats are arduous, and you had little to eat. Any aches, any discomfort, you will tell me.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

“I would like for you to spend a few days in the nest,” he added. “Recovering, resting. Then we shall return to our routines.”

“Yes, Alpha, thank you.”

Will was floating in bliss. He had forgotten, in his panic, in his pain, that Hannibal had chosen him, that he had  _ wanted _ him, but now he reached for the claiming bite with gentle fingers and traced it with a sigh. Bonded. Claimed. Owned. Loved.

Will bit his lip gently and lifted his eyes to Hannibal’s. His Alpha was still petting him, simple touches, gentle ones, but enough to soothe Will’s trepidation. They were one, now. A unit. And Hannibal had always encouraged Will to ask him things when he had concerns or questions.

“Will anything change?” Will asked softly, tilting his head for Hannibal to stroke under his chin. “I enjoy our routine, the structure. I very much enjoy pleasing you.”

“You’re doing very well,” Hannibal told him, smiling when Will blushed beautifully at the praise. “We have been living together as a bonded pair before we bonded, so little will change. Perhaps…” his eyes narrowed as he watched Will’s widen in anticipation. “Perhaps an inclusion of more intimate things for the two of us, now that you are my own.”

Will licked his lips, shivering when Hannibal’s fingers found his bite and rubbed more firmly over the indentations. He couldn’t imagine being more intimate than they were currently. 

“You like to please me,” Hannibal said. “You’ve learned the obedience expected of Omegas. I would like to ask you for a little more.”

Whatever Hannibal wanted, he could have it. Will’s gratitude and affection were both too great for him to contain. He would gladly hand over everything to Hannibal.

...Except the books, perhaps. He would be very unhappy if Hannibal tried to take the books from him. 

“Tell me, please, Alpha,” Will requested. Hannibal’s hand tangled into his hair, and he pulled Will in until they were curled together, nose to nose. 

“I would expect your obedience in all things,” Hannibal told him, “Beyond your usual household subservience. I should like to see you bound in positions that please me, or holding them because you were told to. I might choose to hurt you.”

“I don’t want you to hurt me,” Will said, immediate and scared.

Hannibal soothed him, enough that Will’s breathing eased to something softer. “I have hurt you in the past, for appropriate punishment of course, and you have responded… beautifully.”

Will’s cheeks darkened again. He remembered, bending over a chair and exposing his ass for Hannibal to whip. He remembered getting hard from the strap against his back when he didn’t properly hold his posture. But that was wrong, that was unnatural, his broken mind associating cruelties with pleasure because he hadn’t been taught better.

“I would only hurt you in a way you would enjoy,” Hannibal added gently, as Will’s breathing stuttered again. “You respond so beautifully to the lash. Get so wet for me,” Hannibal inhaled and Will bit his lip, blushing deeper. “Extraordinary boy, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“I thought,” Will turned his face against Hannibal’s relishing the praise, the softness and fondness. He swallowed. “I thought my body was responding to overwhelming sensations. Not knowing how else to respond but… that. I never thought -”

“There is nothing wrong with you, Will. nothing. You merely share proclivities with me that could be considered outside of the norm. Did you, in your studies, read about sexual deviance?”

Will nodded. “Briefly.”

“I will find books for you, if you like. To appeal to your intellectual mind, as well as your intimate one.”

Books would always win Will over. “Okay. I mean. Yes, Alpha.” He squirmed a little, biting his lip. Hannibal ducked his head to breathe warmth against Will’s throat. 

“I would make sure you enjoyed it,” he promised, “I would make you drip with your pleasure. Or perhaps I would plug you as you are now, keep you from making a mess of yourself until I was ready to have you.”

Will ducked his head to hide his face against Hannibal’s shoulder. He could feel himself growing slick, and he was not entirely sure the plug would be any help. 

Hannibal smiled into Will’s hair, scenting his boy’s arousal. “The things I would like to do to you, my sweet boy. I would make you feel so intensely you ached. Turn pain to pleasure and pleasure to pain. I would decorate you in the most beautiful of things and teach you how to wear them with pride.”

Goosebumps raised across Will’s skin. He couldn’t manage arousal so close to his heat, but his body worked on its own. The scent of slick and pheromones flooded their nest, trapped by the curtains. Will wanted to burrow deep, to live in this warmth forever. 

“Okay,” he whispered. “Anything you want, Alpha.”

* * *

Once Will recovered, he truly started his life as a bonded Omega. Few things changed. His chores remained the same, Hannibal allowed him to participate more with the preparation of their meals, some nights they cuddled on the couch and read. Other nights they retired to the nest early and talked. Other nights, still, Will started to understand what Hannibal had meant about their peculiar proclivities.

While strict, Hannibal had never once been cruel to Will. He enjoyed the rigid structure, the scheduling and routines, he enjoyed addressing his Alpha formally and being praised for his conduct. He enjoyed being good for Hannibal.

And good was exactly what Hannibal wanted him to be when they played.

First, new things to wear. Or, more accurately, nothing to wear. One morning Hannibal had woken Will with a kiss and the instruction to not wear a single slip of clothing that day.

"Your chores," he whispered against the shell of Will's ear, "your practice. Your reading. All will be done bare, so I can see."

Will shuddered beneath him, reaching to pull Hannibal down to him and whining when he pulled away. 

“Not now, sweet boy. Later, if you’re good and you impress me.”

Hannibal knew exactly what those words did to him. Will was always eager to impress his Alpha, even when the task at hand scared him or made him uneasy. 

Nudity was not a problem at first. Shyness was the real problem. Will felt exposed as he moved through the house, Hannibal’s eyes seemingly always on him. Will had a few things he did every day, such as making the bed and tidying up, but beyond that, he rotated which rooms he cleaned on a daily basis. Today, Hannibal seemed to have a reason to be in every room, always brushing just behind Will, maneuvering past him with a hand on his waist. Or worse, backing Will up to a wall, bending to suckle at his nipples until they were stiff peaks and Will was gasping.

That was the point where nudity became a problem. Will began to move in tiny steps, his thighs pressed tight together, but it did him no good. When Hannibal came to find him as he cleaned the study, the backs of Will’s thighs were shining with slick. He was terrified that he would drip onto the floor, leaving his scent to stain the room no matter how quick he was to clean up. 

Hannibal bracketed Will as he dusted the book shelves, reaching over his shoulder to grab a book while his free hand tested the give of Will’s slick entrance. Will gasped and clutched at the bookshelf for balance, trembling. 

“Almost time for training, Will. You should hurry.”

“Yes, Sir,” he whispered, smiling when Hannibal ghosted a kiss over his shoulder before leaving him to work. It was strangely intimate, this play. Will found that he liked it. It made him feel giddy, it made him feel young and attractive and arousing for his Alpha. He never thought he would be that, old as he was. He never thought anyone would ever find him attractive or useful again.

He worked diligently on the dusting, as precise as ever, and was already waiting for Hannibal to return to the study for training on his knees by Hannibal’s favourite chair. He turned his head into the palm that stroked his hair, feeling a purr rise up in his chest as Hannibal took a seat beside him.

“At attention, dear boy. Show me how well you’ve been learning.”

Will nodded, spreading his thighs, sitting back on his heels and crossing his wrists at the base of his back. Chin parallel the floor, shoulders straight, breathing even. He knew Hannibal thought him beautiful this way, and he found that more and more, he found  _ himself _ beautiful this way. But this was the first time he was bare, the first time he could feel the cool air of the room tickle against his sensitive skin, the first time he could see his hard little cock rather than just feeling it.

He bit his lip and stayed still, obedient and lovely.

Hannibal watched him, looked at his beautiful Omega sitting at attention for him. He imagined him at a gathering, just as bare, just as radiant. Trembling, perhaps, with nerves, with shyness, but sitting still for his Alpha. With a hum, Hannibal dropped a hand over the side of the chair and drew a knuckle tickling around and around Will’s nipple.

“One day,” Hannibal told him, turning a page with his free hand. “You will sit like this at a party for me, just as you are. And you will have to be just as still, and just as poised, because I won’t resist touching you.”

As he’d expected, Will gasped, his cock twitching between his thighs, and his position faltered. He was quick to collect himself, but Hannibal was quicker.

The strap struck Will’s belly, dangerously low, just above the head of his small cock.Will shut his eyes with a soft groan, careful to keep his position. On display, not just for his Alpha, but for  _ guests _ . Still and presented for complete strangers, people who would see his peaked nipples and the diminutive length of his erection, who would smell the way slick flowed against his skin. 

“I’ll expect perfection, then. You’ll get a proper whipping if you fail me at a party. Everyone would see the way you drip when you’re beaten.” 

Hannibal returned to his book, as though oblivious to the whimper bubbling in Will’s throat. 

Corrections came just as sharp and quick as ever, though Hannibal never seemed to look away from his book. Will was panting after half an hour, pearly fluid gathering at the tip of his cock, the room filled with the scent of him. He wanted so badly to be fucked. Hannibal was teaching him new things in that area, as well, positions and options for him to take Hannibal’s knot without the aid of the bench. He wanted to climb up into Hannibal’s lap and ride him quick and hard while Hannibal worked him over with the strap.

Hannibal had been right. There was something deviant about Will, and he was still somewhat embarrassed by it, no matter what he learned from his new books. Will kept position, still and silent, but the red blush traveled slowly down his face, his throat, until even his chest was tinted with his shame.

It only seemed to make the arousal worse. Slick had dripped over his feet, onto the floor. He didn’t want to know what he would look like when he stood. 

He had gotten better at sitting at attention, now if he faltered it was due to Will being tired from chores before, or something else was weighing on him. Often he just went to that soft, warm headspace he’d found where nothing mattered and nothing hurt. Often, but not today, when Hannibal would deliberate tweak a nipple or tickle beneath Will’s chin, or draw teasing fingers down his back and back up again.

He was testing him, Will knew, and he was weak to it.

He flicked his eyes to the clock on the wall, ten more minutes. He could do ten more minutes and then he would beg, on his knees as he was, for his Alpha to fuck him, or whip him, or both. His cock strained up between his legs, leaking copiously. Will ignored it. He ignored everything. He tried to ignore how warm Hannibal’s hands were when they touched him, how entirely in tune with his Alpha Will felt.

Five minutes, and Hannibal drew the strap over Will’s little cock, not in warning but to catch some precome on the flat of it. He brought the strap to Will’s lips, holding it still. Will didn’t move, he hadn’t been told to. After a moment Hannibal hummed, pleased, and glanced over.

“Open your mouth, Will.”

Will did.

“Suck this clean.”

Will whimpered, and did.

Slowly, the strap slid over his tongue, back and forth between his lips. It wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy the hunger that had built within Will, but he had not been offered any more. 

When Hannibal pulled the strap free of Will’s mouth, he left his lips parted, a soft, wet opening for his Alpha to use. He had not reached his hazy, peaceful state, but he had found something new, a heated thrill in an obedience deeper than he had ever experienced before. Will had always followed orders, but now he had removed himself entirely, become nothing more than an object for Hannibal to move or command or use as he saw fit. Will no longer felt like a person. He felt transcendent. 

Hannibal ran the strap down Will’s chest, leaving a damp trail behind. He nudged at each nipple in turn and received only the slightest hitch of breath, nothing more. Down further, to tap lightly at the soft head of Will’s delicate cock. Rather than strike at it, Hannibal pushed, nudging the little thing as far down as it would go just to watch it spring up again. Will’s mortification shone through on his face, but still, he did not move. 

Such a beautiful, perfect creature. Hannibal had expected more pushback. He had prepared himself to make compromises he would not have been entirely satisfied with, to sacrifice a few longings in exchange for a beautiful, bright Omega to discuss psychology with and to give him a litter of pups. 

Instead, he’d somehow gotten Will. Will, who was not only willing to follow every classic Omega standard Hannibal taught him, but who was also an entirely eager submissive, willing to subjugate and humiliate himself for Hannibal’s pleasure, and to receive his own pleasure from it. 

“Good boy,” Hannibal murmured, lifting Will’s testicles with the stiff strap. 

Will remained as still as he could, though his breaths panted from him now in little gusts of air. Hannibal continued to tease between his legs, working Will up and humiliating him in equal measure. Will didn’t know what it was about being handled so indifferently that aroused him so. He enjoyed when Hannibal looked him in the eyes, when he addressed him by name, when he kissed him softly and nuzzled against him.

But this…

“How little you are,” Hannibal murmured, watching Will’s tiny cock spring up again and his Omega tremble at the words. Three minutes more he had his boy this way. By the clock, at least. Hannibal would have Will on his knees as long as he damn well pleased, in truth. “Tiny, delicate little thing, and all mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Sir,” Will whispered, heart pounding in his ears. His eyes were up on the clock, watching the second hand tick by so slowly, so, so slowly. He felt another pulse of slick slip from between his legs and resisted the urge to moan. He ached. He ached for Hannibal so badly.

“Things are different for Omegas. Tiny, delicate cocks are more appealing.” As he spoke, Hannibal tapped lightly at the head of Will’s cock, this time just enough for Will to feel a hint of a snap. Will bit back a low whine. “After all,” Hannibal continued, “Omega cocks serve no real purpose. They’re largely decorative. The real source of your pleasure is…”

The strap disappeared from Will’s cock, only to reappear behind him, nudging between his damp cheeks. Will squeaked and only barely managed to stay still as the strap rubbed tauntingly against his entrance. He tried to imagine accepting a strike there, and could not. 

“You’re soaked through, poor thing,” Hannibal teased, bringing the strap back to Will’s lips. “Clean up your mess.”

Will whimpered as he sucked his own taste from the strap, trembling. The time ticked over, one hour up. For a moment, the tension left Will’s shoulders. 

But Hannibal did not release him. 

He continued to fuck Will’s mouth with the strap, still musing aloud. “I should lock it away. What do you need it for? It’s of no use to anyone, a sweet little cock like that. Better to have you decorated, something heavy and golden between your thighs, drawing everyone’s eye to how small and delicate you are, so easy to tuck away. The perfect Omega form.”

Will whimpered loudly around the leather, eyes closing at the thought. Not only bare for others to see, leaking and flushed, but his cock - his little cock - covered and trapped, and in that way in itself on display. When Hannibal freed his mouth Will gasped, chancing a glance towards his master. He didn’t turn his head, he didn’t dare. Hannibal’s eyes narrowed.

“Would you like that?”

“Yes, Sir,”

“You would, wouldn’t you,” Hannibal murmured, smiling. “You would flush so beautifully, so shy, and still spreading your thighs wide and sitting at attention by my side. Sweet boy, come here to me. On your knees.”

Will brought his hands to his front and set them to the floor, wincing as he sat up, as much because his numb feet finally had blood flow, as because he could feel the amount of slick he left behind. He crawled around to the front of the chair, settling between Hannibal’s spread knees and looking up at him from there.

“What do you want, darling boy?” Hannibal asked him. Will licked his lips.

“I want your cock, Sir.” He swallowed. “Please.”

“In your ass or your mouth?” Hannibal asked, smiling when he saw Will flush immediately.

“My… my ass, Sir.”

The strap caught Will under the chin, tilting his head back further to expose Will’s bite scar. “I imagine you do, given the puddle you’ve left on my floor.”

The strap kept Will from looking down, but he flinched, looking at Hannibal pleadingly. 

“Poor thing,” Hannibal said, “It’s not your fault. You were made to be regularly used. There was a time when wealthy Omegas never left their quarters at all. Still….” the strap trailed down to rest in the hollow between Will’s collarbones, an implicit threat of a punishment Will wouldn’t earn. He would be perfect. 

“Who decides when you receive a knot, Will?”

“You do, Sir.” Will bit back a whine. The implication was clear: for now, he would remain empty. 

“By that logic, I should also decide  _ where _ you receive a knot, shouldn’t I?”

Will’s eyes widened, gold flickering before he blinked.  _ Where _ ? Where could it possibly go except -

“Oh,”

“Oh,” Hannibal smiled a little wider, setting the strap aside and leaning closer to his Omega. Will didn’t lean away, he stayed as he was, obedient and lovely for him. And scared. Hannibal could smell it on him. “Trust me, Will. Have I ever led you astray?”

Will shook his head. No, Hannibal had never done that, had never lied to him, had never done anything but try to help Will get back on his feet. He’d mated him. Had pampered and taught and guided him.

“No, Sir.”

“Open your mouth.”

With a soft little noise, Will did.


	6. Chapter 6

He took three tests, just in case. Hannibal had purchased a huge box of them, the optimism of potential fathers, Will guessed. 

They had done everything right. Breeding bench, tilted up so none of the semen leaked out. Inducing a rut, to fill the Omega with as much seed as possible. A plug for several hours afterwards, to keep everything inside. Will had even stayed in bed for three days afterwards, letting his body heal. They’d done  _ everything _ right. 

Well. Hannibal had. Clearly, Will had messed up somewhere along the line. 

All three tests read negative, big and clear. Will was tempted to grab a fourth, a nice, even number. 

But he knew what it would say. He knew the results. 

God, Hannibal was going to be so  _ disappointed _ when he came home. Maybe even angry. Will had never seen him angry before, but a defective Omega would make anyone angry. There was only a five percent chance of a failed conception in healthy Omegas, and Will had no way of knowing if he was healthy. He’d canceled his appointment when Hannibal had suggested he have a heat, and had never met with the Omega specialist. 

Will’s hands were shaking when he cleaned up his mess. He had chores to do. He had a list, a schedule, a routine. 

Later. He had plenty of time. For now, he crawled back into the nest and let the curtains block out all the light. 

He startled awake when the phone rang and immediately felt a sense of dread flush through him. He’s slept in. Not only that, he’d slept through most of the day. Now he wasn’t only defective but incompetent. Will scrambled for his phone and caught it just before the call dropped, Hannibal’s voice immediately soothing on the other end.

“Will? Are you well?”

“I’m -” not for the first time, Will wondered if Hannibal - or Alphas in general - could read minds. He didn’t know how to tell Hannibal over the phone. He didn’t know how to tell him at all. But he certainly couldn’t lie to his Alpha. “I’m feeling a little under the weather, Sir, I’m sorry. I’ll get everything done before you arrive home.”

There was a pause. “What’s happened, sweet boy?”

Will stuttered again. He couldn’t brush it off as nothing. It wasn’t nothing. It would quite possibly define the rest of his life from this moment forward and still Will didn’t have the words to express himself as he wanted to. He swallowed, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“My body’s just -” he hesitated again, taking a deep breath. “Lethargic,” he admitted. “Weak.” his voice broke a little. “I’m sorry, Sir, it will pass, I’m sure. Perhaps I ate too quickly, or not enough, or -”

“Will,” Hannibal said sternly, “I don’t appreciate deceit. If you don’t feel well, I expect you to say so, not make excuses.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Perhaps you ate something that disagreed with you, but perhaps you’ve fallen ill. You are not a doctor, and downplaying your symptoms will not help me determine what you need.”

Will found himself nodding, though Hannibal couldn’t see, guilt twisting him further into knots. “Yes, Sir. I’m sorry.”

“Fetch a bottle of water from the pantry,” Hannibal instructed. “Bring it with you into bed and rest. It should be gone before I get home, and  _ you  _ should be where I’ve told you to be, am I understood?”

“I understand, Sir.”

Hannibal’s voice softened. “I’ll be home soon, my sweet Omega. It will be alright.”

It wouldn’t be. But Will had never denied Hannibal so blatantly. He didn’t even know how. 

The water was refreshing on his palate, wiping away the sour, stale taste of sleep. Will nuzzled into Hannibal’s pillows, curled up around his empty stomach, whimpering softy to himself. 

When Hannibal came home, Will was still in bed, as he had been told to be. The water was gone and he looked despondent. He looked up when Hannibal opened the curtains and his face immediately crumpled.

“It didn’t take,” he whispered, curling up further. “I don’t know what I did, Alpha, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I did wrong, I don’t know -”

Whatever Hannibal had expected - the smell of illness, of fever and pain - was not present. Instead, his Omega, his sweet obedient boy, was sobbing quietly into the sheets because nature was a cruel mistress. Hannibal made a sound, soft and soothing, and set his knee to the bed, shifting Will back just enough to be able to curl up beside him.

“Oh, Will.”

He caught Will’s face and tilted it up so Hannibal could kiss his damp cheeks, could nuzzle him and guide Will to his scent glands to soothe his pain.

“Sweet boy, very few Omegas take the first time they are properly mated. It is not a failing on your part, my Will, not at all.”

Will drew in a hiccuping breath of strong, virile Alpha scent, and let out another sound of distress. “But we did everything right!” He insisted. “Everything. Every step, even things most people don’t bother with, I  _ know _ not every Omega still uses a breeding bench.”

Hannibal hushed him again, running gentle fingers through his curls. “You spent more of your life on suppressants than off them, Will. It will take time for things to readjust. You were lucky not to have two heats in the same cycle, or bleeding.”

Silent tears soaked the collar of Hannibal’s shirt. “It wasn’t even my fault,” Will whispered. “I just didn’t want him to hurt me.”

This was something Hannibal had thought over many times before. Relief of being able to meet and claim Will did not outweigh protective Alpha outrage that people had hurt his Will so. It was likely only the viciousness of  _ how _ he killed his attacker that had earned Will so many years locked away. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Hannibal agreed. “But that’s over now. You’re here, with me. Nothing like that will ever happen to you again. No one will take you from me.”

Will sniffled quietly. Hannibal hesitated, considering what he knew of his boy, and then gently guided Will’s face up to meet his. 

“Will,” he said softly, “my sweet boy. One failed heat could hardly taint my affection for you. You are not infertile. I would have smelled it on you by now. But even if you were, you would still be my good boy. My obedient, delicate little Omega.”

Will wanted to believe him, he did. He closed his eyes and let himself be kissed, let himself be soothed and touched and held as he clung to Hannibal’s shirt and tried to convince himself that he belonged in his arms when he had so failed him already.

Perhaps he was too old?

Perhaps the suppressants had ruined him forever?

Perhaps Will was just a broken and vile thing, deviant and strange?

“I’m sorry,” he said anyway, nuzzling up against Hannibal. “I will catch up on my chores tomorrow, I promise.”

“I know, dear boy,” Hannibal told him. He would hardly scold Will for being unable to concentrate on his work when his entire being had been in panic all day over something he couldn’t control. Hannibal ran a tight ship, at work, in his home, at the parties he hosted, but never at the expense of someone as important as his mate. The house was impeccable in Will’s capable hands already. One day would not skew it, nor Will’s training.

Hannibal nuzzled him, a possessive gesture, pushing Will’s head aside just a little so Hannibal could press his lips to the mark he had claimed him with. “Let me bathe you,” he murmured. “Let me wash your face and lovely hair. Let me take you to bed and worship everything you are.”

Will whimpered and stilled. He didn’t deserve that.

He was so stiff and uncomfortable in Hannibal’s arms. He had not seemed so reluctant to be there since the very first time Hannibal had drawn him in. “Sweet boy,” he whispered, “don’t you understand? If you never gave me a single pup, it would change  _ nothing _ .”

“Alpha,” Will whined, horrified by the very thought. He wanted pups, wanted them so badly. He’d tried so hard. 

“Who do you belong to?” Hannibal said, voice firm as he rolled overtop Will. “Who owns every piece of you? Who decides what you do, and when? Who orders your days and makes your choices?”

“Y-you do, Sir,” Will stammered. “You’re my Alpha.”

“And much more than that,” Hannibal reminded him. “I am your Master, I am the one who guides and cares for you. I have done that all without a single pup in your belly, and there is not a thing on this earth that could stop me.” 

Will blinked up at him, shocked, tears drying on his cheeks. Hannibal offered him a smile, kissing the corner of his lips. 

“You’re trapped now, my Omega. I could never let you leave having seen your mind and tasted your sweetness.”

Will made a helpless noise and tilted his head back to offer his throat next. He didn’t want to escape. He didn’t want to be anywhere but under Hannibal, good for him, obedient for him… which meant he would give Hannibal whatever he asked of him, whatever he  _ told him _ he wanted.

Will drew his knees up around his Alpha and held him close, eyes up and chin raised and teeth sneaking from beneath his top lip to bite the lower.

“I would be nowhere else, Alpha,” he promised. “And no one’s.”

“And you shan’t be,” Hannibal promised him, drawing his teeth teasingly over Will’s pulse. “Now, I will bathe you,”

“Yes,”

“And wash your hair,”

“Yes,” Will squirmed beneath him.

“And then take you to bed,” Hannibal teased, “and worship  _ my _ Omega as only his Alpha can.”

“Yes, Sir, please.”

The bathtub was big enough for the both of them, and Will loved it intensely. Hannibal has a fondness for washing Will’s hair, but tonight he took extra care with him. They settled into the tub, Will’s back to Hannibal’s chest, and Hannibal started with his feet. 

He had to pull Will’s knees to his chest in order to reach, and the openness of the position escaped neither of them. As Hannibal worked soap into Will’s skin, he whispered a litany of promises. 

“You’ll be so full, sweet boy. I want you clean and fresh so I can make you smell entirely of me.”

Will leaned back, his head against Hannibal’s shoulder, and tried to even out his breathing as teasing fingers trailed up his calves, then his thighs. Hannibal’s hand wrapped Will’s cock entirely, even erect, encompassing him without effort. He gave Will a small squeeze, coaxing hardness from him while Will panted and writhed against him. 

“Soon,” Hannibal promised, “soon I’ll taste every inch of you. Be patient, sweet Omega. Wait for permission.”

“Yes, Sir,” he breathed. Hannibal had been educating him in patience, had been educating him in asking for permission. More often than not, now, Will’s kneeling practice ended with his Alpha’s cock in his mouth. Sometimes, if he had been very good, he got Hannibal’s knot behind his teeth and was left leaking, tearing, and flushed after, his own pleasure denied as he swallowed down Hannibal’s seed.

Sometimes, Hannibal would wake Will very early, the sky still dark beyond the curtains, and push him onto his back. Sometimes, Hannibal’s mouth explored Will from collarbone to navel, genuinely worshipping him with his mouth and breath. Sometimes, Hannibal would spread Will’s legs and take his little cock against his tongue and suck, just gently, just teasingly, until Will was whimpering for release.

Those mornings, Will knew he had to wait. Those mornings, Will would be flushed scarlet and breathless, pleading with his Alpha, begging him to let him come only to be told no.  _ No, Will. Be a good boy for me. Don’t come until I tell you. Don’t disappoint me, beautiful thing. _

And if he wasn’t good… oh, how beautiful his spread thighs looked whipped red by his master for his disobedience.

“Please, Sir,” Will sighed, smiling wider, biting his lip as he tried to spread his legs further for Hannibal to touch him more openly. “I love how you touch me, every way you touch me.”

Hannibal’s hand slid down, fingertips dragging lightly over Will’s balls, down to press gently at his entrance, already twitching and greedy for anything Hannibal would give. “Today, I’ll be thorough,” he promised, sliding just one finger in, just to the second knuckle. He would not give Will more, no matter how he squirmed. He thrust shallow and slow, and then pulled out completely. 

“Alpha, please….”

“Settle, Will,” Hannibal said, draping a hand over his belly, “There’s still so much of you to clean.”

Will had always been ticklish, and Hannibal reveled in it, eager for any reaction he could pull from Will. He alternated between tender touches over Will’s sides and sharp, aching tugs to his nipples, drawing them into reddened peaks. Will made the most delicious sounds, soft gasps and aching little whines. 

Once his boy was sufficiently clean, Hannibal wrapped a gentle hand around his throat, tilting his head back to suck a bruise over his jaw. “I’d like to see you sprawled out in our nest. Your soft thighs spread for me to lay between. Pale skin bared for my teeth. No rules, sweet boy. No stillness, no silence. I want to hear every noise and see every little twitch of your skin.”

Biting hard over the bruise he’d left, Hannibal released him. “Go. Wait for me.”

Will shivered and obeyed, turning his head just a little to brush a kiss against Hannibal's cheek before he stood. He dried off and moved off into the bedroom again, allowing himself to stretch in the doorway until bones popped and muscles strained.

It felt wonderful.

He opened the curtains to the bed a little wider, to allow more light to filter in for Hannibal to see him. He crawled into bed as he listened to the sound of water draining from the tub and shivered in anticipation. He took his time to adjust the nest to best lay comfortably for them both and then sprawled with a sigh.

He spread his legs, enjoying the illicit sensation of being so exposed, and arched his back with a quiet groan. He tickled his fingertips over the insides of his thighs, smile wide as he responded to his own teasing as he waited for his Alpha to join him. His Alpha who wanted to show Will just how loved and wanted he was. His Alpha who enjoyed tormenting him as much as he did spoiling him.

Will bit his lip and spread his legs a little wider, tiny cock hard between them.

There was red in Hannibal’s eyes when he returned, a dangerous spark of desire. He looked like he wanted to pounce, as though it took all his strength to join Will slowly, letting the curtains close behind him. 

The nest was dark and warm. Will could see nothing, but he knew Hannibal by scent, by feel. Hannibal crawled between his knees, grazing his teeth over the pale skin of Will’s inner thighs. 

“You smell obscene,” Hannibal told him, his voice a low growl in the dark. Will shuddered and spread ever wider, knowing how much Hannibal loved his desire. 

Hannibal traced a slow path up Will’s thighs, nuzzling his scent into Will’s skin. When he reached the apex, he gave Will’s cock a single long lick, chuckling at Will’s over-eager moan. 

“Tell me what you want, sweet boy. Ask nicely.”

"I want to come, please," Will whispered, a hand in his hair tugging his back from his face, giving himself something to do, something that wasn't grabbing Hannibal's hand and clinging. "I want to come with your mouth on me,"

Hannibal's purr rumbled low and deep and Will couldn't contain the whine the sound pulled from him. His Alpha, strong and powerful, protective and possessive and generous, so generous. His.

"Please, Alpha," he whined. "Please make me come, and then fill me up, let me make you feel good,"

"Beautiful thing," Hannibal praised him, nuzzling at Will's groin. "Lovely, obedient boy, I'll make you come."

Will tried to thank him, lips parted to start, but the feeling of Hannibal's mouth on him was too much. Hot and tight, the tease of his Alpha's teeth, his rough tongue had Will squirming in the nest, whimpering in unabashed, unashamed pleasure.

"Yes, God, Sir, yes, please,  _ please _ -"

Hannibal nudged two fingers between Will’s cheeks, and Will’s words trailed off into a cry. He crooked them and rubbed mercilessly, listening to Will pitch higher and higher.

Hannibal could take all of Will with ease, and did so. He swallowed and sucked while Will writhed on his fingers, rocking back and forth, a whimpering mess. 

Hannibal could tell exactly when Will was close, his thighs quivering, his body clenching around Hannibal’s fingers. He tipped over the edge with a wail, his thighs snapping shut around Hannibal’s ears, unable to shut him out. 

Hannibal kept going, until Will’s legs dropped again to dig frantically into the mattress, the boy thrashing in Hannibal’s grip. 

“Please, Sir, please!” Will didn’t dare ask Hannibal to stop, he knew better than to deny his Alpha anything, but he could beg for mercy, shaking as Hannibal drew his pleasure out into pain. 

Hannibal played with him a little more, enjoying the trembling that shivered through his Omega, enjoying his obedience despite Hannibal allowing him to not follow their usual rules in bed. Will was a born submissive, glorious in his vulnerability. Hannibal adored him.

When he freed Will's tormented little cock, half hard already, he set his teeth to the pale skin of his thighs. Will keened, slipping his fingers into Hannibal's hair to hold him, eager and little beneath his mouth.

He was so slick already, dripping around Hannibal's hand as his Alpha teased a third finger between Will's legs.

"Alpha please fuck me," he sighed, pressing his toes to the bed and arching up in a pleasing bend for Hannibal. "Please, Sir, I need your cock."

He hadn't been good, he had missed a day of chores and practice, had missed greeting his Alpha at the door properly, had spent the day wallowing, and yet Hannibal was worshiping him like Will was the most beautiful and coveted thing on earth.

And it was exactly what Will needed. This reminder, this promise of comfort and safety when he felt most useless.

Hannibal pulled his fingers free, straightening up to slick his cock with the remnants. When Will attempted to roll over and present himself, Hannibal hauled him back onto his back. 

“I want to see your face, Will. I want to watch you while I pleasure you.”

There was hardly any light to see by, but Will could just make out Hannibal’s features, his honest and pleased smile. 

Hannibal draped himself over Will, hot and heavy. He lined himself up blindly, his eyes locked on Will’s face. 

Every time, it was as though Will had forgotten just how big Hannibal could feel. He arched his back, gasping quietly as Hannibal pushed deep into him, inch by inch. Hannibal liked it best when it was just barely too much, when Will began to tremble before him and his breath hitched in little hiccups. 

Hannibal loved him slowly, his lips pressed to Will’s ear, whispering his affections and desires in equal measures. Will ground back against him, suffering the sensitivity in exchange for having Hannibal here against him. 

After a while he wrapped his arms around him, tugging Hannibal nearer to kiss. It was rare they did this; intimate, face-to-face lovemaking. Will truly adored any way his Alpha wanted to have him, but this was a treat. He felt so cherished, this way, when Hannibal ghosted kisses against his cheeks and nuzzled him while rocking slow and deep into Will's pliant body.

"Hannibal -" he gasped, cheeks immediately flushing when he realized he'd addressed his Alpha by name. In answer, Hannibal purred and held Will impossibly closer.

"Sweet Will," he told him, kissing the corner of his mouth. "My beautiful Omega. Perhaps I don't show you how loved you are, often enough,"

"No! Sir -"

"How precious you are to me, how clever." Hannibal dropped a hand down to grasp behind Will's knee, spreading him wider, catching Will's gasp against his lips. "Our evenings together when we talk, when you read to me and debate with me, when we talk at dinner… I wouldn't have another, Will, no power on earth would have me replace you."

Will bit his lip on a whimper and arched his back, fingers slipping over Hannibal's sweaty skin as he rode down into Will, deliberate and deep.

Will’s skin was alight with sensation, every inch of him responding to every place Hannibal touched him. He was an extension of Hannibal, his Alpha’s pleasure echoed in him. 

“Please fill me,” Will whispered. “I want to feel how much you love me.”

“You should always feel that,” Hannibal told him, but he hitched Will’s hips a little higher, driving into him with what felt like his entire body. 

Will’s cock was hard and aching, smacking against his belly with how thoroughly Hannibal moved in him. Hannibal covered it with a huge, hot palm, cupping it entirely. Will rutted up against him and then back down into the next heavy thrust, shaking as he began to come undone again. 

“Alpha,” he whined, “Alpha, Hannibal, I love you so much. Please, Sir, let me come again.”

"As often as I can make you," Hannibal promised him, bending to kiss against Will's jaw as he curled his fingers with a little more purpose around Will. He worked his Omega to breathlessness, kissing the flush on his cheeks, sucking Will's bottom lip into his mouth as Will came with a shudder, silent in the overwhelming pleasure he felt.

"Oh God," Will dug his fingers into the nape of Hannibal's neck, arching up for him, wrapping his legs around him as Hannibal lay against him, hips pistoning into Will.

"Alpha," he murmured, breath hitching as Hannibal's cock dragged over his prostate. "Alpha, please, knot - knot me."

"Greedy boy," Hannibal praised. "Eager sweet thing, you want my knot?"

"Yes, Sir,"

"Want me to fill you up," Hannibal murmured, tugging Will's earlobe between his teeth, "watch how you leak so beautifully for me after… I might leave you messy," Will groaned. "Might leave you filthy and full for me to take you again."

"Yes," Will gasped. "Anything, please, yes."

Hannibal pushed Will’s thighs back against his chest, grinding into him in short thrusts until he was wailing, spent cock twitching in vain as Hannibal mercilessly targeted his prostate. 

It took only a few more thrusts and a pleading cry from Will before Hannibal was shoving his knot into him, coming in thick bursts, filling his boy up. 

It wasn’t nearly enough to distend Will’s belly, but Hannibal rubbed a hand over it anyway. Will  _ would _ give him pups, there was no doubt about his fertility. But if it took a few tries, well, that was just more time for Hannibal to have his boy without needing to share. 

He curled over Will, protective as they twined together in the nest. Will’s eyes had gone glassy, both Omega and submissive sides of him pleased by the knot, by being bound so thoroughly to Hannibal. 

“I love you, Sir,” Will breathed. Hannibal nuzzled their noses together. 

“I love you too, my sweet Omega.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANKS FOR WAITING OUT OUR HIATUS!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a bonus chapter a bit out of the timeline, because this is still a WIP and we're not sure when we'll get to it again TT_TT thank you all for your support throughout! We love that you love this kind of dynamic, and will hopefully have some more stories that you'll love in the pipeline soon!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Public party time ;)  
> Public spanking, public humiliation (all consensual)

It was very, very rare that Will was reluctant anymore. Everything he and Hannibal did together brought such a rush, of pleasure and panic and pain, that Will was always eager to show Hannibal how open he was to new adventures.

But he was genuinely frightened of the party Hannibal had planned.

"It is unconventional," Hannibal had told him over breakfast. "Close friends of mine who enjoy the sorts of pleasures you and I do, my sweet boy."

Which meant this was more than sitting at attention at Hannibal's side. It was more than serving food and taking it away and cleaning up.

For one thing, Will would wear a harness. It was a leather thing, the leather itself buttery to the touch but stark against his skin. It holstered him over the shoulders and across his chest, and met around a D ring in the middle of his back. It slinked lower, too, and tightened as garters at the tops of Will's thighs. There was an extension to bind his hands behind his back, cuffs of leather that felt almost too heavy and too light at once. The cuffs could be attached to Will’s thighs, as well.

For another, Hannibal had presented Will with a cage.

"So everyone can see how delicate and little my beautiful boy is."

He'd put it on Will right after breakfast, praising him as Will trembled and blushed. It wasn't uncomfortable, nothing chafed or hurt, but it clasped behind Will's balls and encased his penis entirely in an elegant gold cage. Will would be able to get hard, but it would ache if he did, the cage was very little.

Hannibal wanted him to spend the day practicing. Walking softly, barefoot, bare bodied. Head up, eyes down. Silent unless spoken to. Kneeling at rest, kneeling at attention. 

He’d checked on Will periodically, ducking out of his kitchen to sneak up behind him while he read or cleaned and swat and pinch firmly at anything that had fallen out of place. 

“Always dropping this chin,” Hannibal told him during one inspection, tapping the strap in warning against Will’s cheek. Will trembled before him, standing in perfect stance, hands behind his back, fingers tapping anxiously against each other. 

He was not afraid of Hannibal. He could never be afraid of Hannibal. Even now, his thighs were slick with his arousal, just from wandering the house in a cage Hannibal had chosen for him. 

“I had hoped you would have learned by now,” Hannibal lectured, but a strange smile had crossed his features. 

“I’m sorry, Sir.” 

“I think you’ll need some assistance tonight. Come with me.”

Will followed Hannibal obediently, three steps behind him out of respect. They went to the basement, to the room that housed the breeding bench, and Will cast it a sidelong glance as they passed it and headed instead to the shelves along the wall.

Will had been privy to some of the toys housed within, some he loved and some he truly loathed. But what Hannibal brought forth from one of the boxes was something Will had never seen. 

It looked like a collar, but it was enormous, and instead of a clasp it laced up. Perhaps a corset was more accurate, but it was too small, even for someone as slight as Will.

Will frowned and looked askance at his master.

"This is a posture collar," Hannibal explained, holding it out for Will to see. "An unfortunately underused piece of clothing I am quite fond of."

Hannibal stepped close and kissed Will on the chin. "It rests just beneath this," a hand came up to stroke over Will's throat, his collarbones. "And these. And keeps your head raised, your back straight. And it looks very fetching." Hannibal nipped Will's skin.

Will shivered. He loved to have Hannibal’s eyes on him, drawn to Will with every motion he made. He didn’t hesitate, tilting his chin up to expose the long line of his throat.

Hannibal laced the collar securely, just tight enough for Will to be well aware of its presence. He gasped with every little tug of the laces, imagining Hannibal tightening it further, restricting his breath, controlling every inch of him with just a single knot. 

But Hannibal tied it off without stealing Will’s breath, kissing his cheek instead. “How does it feel, sweet boy?”

The bottom of the collar rested on Will’s shoulders and collarbones, and there was a divot for his chin. It kept him looking straight ahead and no lower, but he couldn’t rest his chin against it. The pressure made the collar dig into his skin. He had no choice but to keep his posture, to be obedient.

“Good, Sir,” Will whispered. He felt slick and empty, craving Hannibal after hours of thinking about him, thinking about rules and instructions. His cock twitched in vain in the gold cage that held him. “Sir, please, I need you.”

Hannibal nuzzled him. “I know, I can smell it on you,” he murmured. He drew a hand down Will’s chest, catching at a delicate nipple with the side of his thumb and teasing there as he breathed in the arousal of his boy.

“I want nothing more than to bend you over my desk right now,” Hannibal admitted, and then he paused, considering. While he couldn’t mount his boy just then, not because he didn’t want to, but because rewards never came before tasks, there were certainly other things he could do to bring his sweet thing pleasure. “But I think I will take you over my knee, instead. I want my guests to see you at your most debauched, sweet thing, aroused and leaking, bottom spanked pink.”

Clicked consonants ran down Will’s spine like fingertips and he whimpered. He wanted to nod, but he couldn’t, the collar stopping him from doing anything but standing at perfect attention before his master as he touched Will’s skin.

“Would you like that, Will?”

“Yes, Sir,” Will groaned. “Please take me over your knee, I should be able to keep good posture for you. I need to be reminded of my place.”

Sweet, lovely thing. So well trained, so entirely at peace with himself. His scent was filling up the whole room, enticing in its neediness. Hannibal tugged him close by one of the leather straps, kissing the corner of Will’s mouth. 

“Upstairs, desperate little thing. Let me look at you.”

Will walked before him with a hesitant gait, his back straight. Hannibal watched with pleasure as a thin line of dampness drew itself down the back of his thigh. This party would be simple, easy. Something nice to ease his boy into public before Hannibal taught him to be taken apart to entertain others. But next time, next time Hannibal would fuck him to screaming in the center of the room, have every eye on him. He would show Will the pleasure of being seen. 

Will faltered in the hall; Hannibal nudged him towards the study with a gentle pat to his backside. Will was flushed prettily, unable to take his eyes away from Hannibal, to duck or evade as he might otherwise be tempted to do. Hannibal sat himself on the sofa, patting his knee.

It was amusing to watch Will struggle with himself, resisting the urge to simply fling himself at Hannibal. Normally, he’d be hard by now, little cock straining with the effort of showing his arousal. Today, he was beautifully tamed and decorated, a perfect boy for Hannibal to touch and torment. 

Slowly, gracefully, Will lowered himself over Hannibal’s thighs. 

Hannibal rested a palm against the wide collar, enough to support Will where he bent so he didn’t strangle himself. Such things were meant to be worn for the purpose of keeping one upright, not bent over, and Hannibal had no intention of hurting his boy unduly. Held this way, bent at the waist and arching his back as best as he was able, Will looked beautiful.

“Perhaps this will be your new uniform at home,” Hannibal murmured, stroking teasingly over Will’s ass, teasing kindness when both knew what was coming. “Without the collar. That can remain for special occasions. But the rest,”

Hannibal spanked Will sharply across one cheek, immediately followed it with another, not giving the boy a moment to catch his breath.

“Yes, I think we’ll implement this starting tomorrow.” Hannibal spanked Will as he spoke, no rhythm to it, no pacing. Several in a row followed by gentle soothing strokes before striking Will just once and gentling him again. It was maddening. “You look lovely trussed up for me. And in your pretty little cage. Don’t you think so?”

Will whimpered, unable to duck his head, unable to even turn it the way the collar held him. He clung to Hannibal’s thighs and took what he gave him, pressing his toes to the rug, trying to arch his back. He liked this. He  _ loved _ this. Hannibal’s hands on him painting his skin red, Will’s mind going entirely blank at the pain, floating on the knowledge that he was giving Hannibal pleasure by being hurt by him.

“Yes, Sir,” he gasped. He wanted to be looked at by Hannibal, he wanted to be seen by him, he wanted to be wanted by him…

Hannibal’s fingernails scraped gently over reddened skin. Will panted beneath his touch, wanton and yearning. Hannibal struck his thighs until they spread, and then painted the sensitive inner skin pink as well. 

“How desperate you will be after a day in the cage,” Hannibal mused, reaching between Will’s spread thighs to cup the metal briefly. “A weekend, perhaps. A week.”

“Sir,” Will pleaded, cock straining in the cage. 

“I know you can come without a hand on your little cock. You don’t need it for pleasure. You don’t need it for breeding. It’s completely superfluous.”

It was, it  _ was _ , and the shame and heat of it all had Will shuddering over Hannibal’s lap, trying not to thrust forward, or backwards, trying to be still for Hannibal.

Hannibal struck him twice more, and then parted his cheeks with one hand, thumb rubbing over his slick, quivering entrance. “I’ll take it from you,” he said, as casually as he might have discussed the weather. “It will be difficult at first, but eventually you’ll learn to like it nearly as much as I like having you in it.”

“Yes, Sir, please -” Will gulped air, spreading his trembling legs wider until Hannibal had to hold him up for Will to be able to balance at all. “Please, I’ll learn, I’ll learn for you, I’ll be so good for you.”

“I know you will, sweet thing,” Hannibal praised him, bringing his thumb up to suck clean, tasting Will and relishing the flavor. Still so sweet, always so sweet. “Just as I know you will endure for me this evening, won’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“No matter how many eyes run over you, no matter how many comments are directed your way. No matter how many times I touch you, and I will want to touch you, how could I resist?” Will whimpered, shaking, cock aching in its cage, ass stinging from Hannibal’s spanking. “You won’t take your pleasure until I tell you, Will you?”

“No, Sir.”

“You’ll listen to your master and be obedient,” Hannibal added, and Will’s entire body tensed in pleasure for a moment. Hannibal rarely asked him to use that title, but when he did the games they played were excruciating; Will was floating for hours after. And this evening, this dinner…

“Yes, Master,” Will breathed. “I will be so obedient for you.”

Hannibal kissed his sweaty curls. “Of that I have no doubt.”

The gathering wasn’t a large one, a dozen people perhaps. All Alphas. Will greeted none of them at the door, that wasn’t his task for the evening. His task was to be beautiful and still, and to move where Hannibal asked him to.

He sat at attention beside the couch Hannibal lounged in, thighs spread wide, presenting the glinting gold of his cage and the dark skin of his erection beneath. Hannibal had pushed a plug deep into Will’s ass after his spanking, claiming it was so his boy wouldn’t leak at the party, but both knew that he would, copiously, even around a plug that size. It was decorated as well, looking like a gem where it peeked from between Will’s punished cheeks.

The collar held Will straight, the harness was glorious against his pale skin, and everyone’s eyes were on him. His posture was almost painfully perfect, but he trembled, overwhelmed and intimidated by the strong scent of so many Alphas and his own exposed body. 

“Such a beautiful creature,” somebody said to Hannibal. “Where do you find one so delicate?”

Hannibal’s hand settled in Will’s curls, pushing them back gently. “He came to me,” he said. “A needy, obedient thing like this, how could I resist?”

Nobody used Will’s name. Nobody referred to him directly. He was completely dehumanized, ‘creature,’ ‘thing.’ It made his cock throb in his cage, trapped and untouched. Will could not look to see if any fluid had dripped from his cage, but he felt the pulses of frustrated pleasure. He would not be surprised if he was bent to lick it up when Hannibal chose to move. 

“Do you share?” Another man asked Hannibal. Hannibal’s answer was both polite and ominous.

“No. But soon I’ll be teaching him to perform. I assume you’ll want an invitation to the show?”

“If it always smells like that, expect me in the front row.”

Will’s ass clenched around the plug, his breathing shallow. This was merely the beginning. There was still dinner to get through, and then drinks after, which he knew could last long into the night. The men would likely ignore him through most of it, but that might only make his arousal worse. It was a challenge to remain completely silent, still as a statue, but he knew the reward of Hannibal’s pleasure would be great.

A few more questions were asked, none were directed at Will. Hannibal petted his hair, stroked a knuckle up and down Will’s cheek, pressed a possessive palm over the collar that kept Will so beautifully straight.

_ No, he’s still quite untrained, but he’s a very eager little thing. _

_ Yes, he’s extraordinarily lovely. Look up, Will, let John look at you. Good boy. _

_ Oh, he takes punishments beautifully. In fact, he asks for them when he knows they’re deserved. _

More promises of a show, more promises of demonstrations. Will’s ears were ringing, his heart was beating too quickly, and he could smell his own slick. He could only imagine how he smelled to the men in the room.

When Hannibal said his name, Will almost startled, making a soft noise of apology when Hannibal cupped his cheek. “Dinner, sweet boy,” he told Will, watching him slowly return to the present. He had done very, very well already, but there were hours yet to go. “You’re going to crawl slowly to the table. I expect perfect poise, as always. Show everyone how obedient you can be.”

“Yes, Master,” Will murmured, turning his face to nuzzle Hannibal’s palm when he permitted it, before bringing his hands to the front of his body and pushing himself up on all fours. He could feel how slick his thighs were, could only imagine how obscene he looked…

But he crawled, obedient and tempting, from the living room to the dining room, hips shifting in deliberate turns with every slow step forward. His plug on display, his slick thighs, his spanked red ass. Will allowed himself a soft whimper - Hannibal had told him he was not to speak unless spoken to but was welcome to make those lovely sounds of his - and moved as though his cheeks weren’t burning, as though his little cock wasn’t struggling in the golden cage.

When he reached Hannibal’s chair, he settled back into position, spreading his thighs deliberately wide before bringing his hands behind his back and settling in to attention. Poised, perfect, for his master.

There were different rules tonight. Hannibal would never starve Will, of course, but nor would Will eat with the Alphas, men who, at least for tonight, outranked him. Instead, he would take his meal quickly in the kitchen while he cleared away the mess.

That did not mean he would go hungry until then, however. As he knelt there by Hannibal’s feet, Hannibal reached down, holding out a scrap of meat between two fingers. Will took the bite and sucked the fingers clean with heavily lidded eyes, breathing out a quiet ‘Thank you, Master,’ afterwards. 

“Seems pretty well-trained to me,” someone said with a laugh. Will bit a moan back, opening his mouth for another bite.

“This man has complimented you, Omega. What do you say?”

Blinking hazily up at Hannibal, Will swallowed his bite. “Thank you, Master. Thank you, Sir.”

“He has many things perfected,” Hannibal told the gentleman, “but come visit us again, and we’ll see what else I can teach him.”

“Will you let him be petted?”

“Eventually,” Hannibal replied with a smile, offering Will another small morsel from his fingers, tugging his bottom lip out of shape a moment just to watch Will’s eyes hood. “We’re still perfecting posture.”

“Do you intend to breed him?”

“Oh yes,” Hannibal stroked Will’s hair again, and there was a warmth there that didn’t come through in his tone, a warmth and fondness that reminded Will of their nest, of Hannibal’s promises within it. “He is far too beautiful not to fill up. For now we are prioritizing training.”

Will didn’t hear much after that, he was floating again. He took from Hannibal’s fingers what was offered to him, and thanked him for every bite. He kept his eyes demure and away from any that tried to catch his. He left his lips gently parted when he wasn’t being fed, so as to look more appealing.

And then Hannibal’s hand absently toyed with the skin of Will’s shoulder, down lower against his sternum before tugging a nipple between two fingers. Will’s entire form trembled, but he didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He kept perfect posture and hoped Hannibal could smell how slick this was making his boy, how desperately Will wished he could touch him.

Hannibal tormented him slowly, gentle touches interspersed with the occasional harsh pinch. Will’s breathing stuttered. His body was screaming for attention. No doubt his cock was dripping as well, even through the cage. He wanted a knot, he wanted it so badly. Little whimpers left his lips, drawing amused chuckles and more stares from the men around him. 

Next time, Hannibal was going to let these men ‘pet’ him. He was going to show Will off, maybe knot him in front of them, maybe make Will come. There would be so many hands and smells, so much overwhelming him.

Will clenched around the plug, trying to get pressure where he needed it without shifting. The plug was sizeable, but without moving, there was no hope of stimulating himself, and Will felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He was so sensitive, so eager, he couldn’t believe he’d almost begged not to do this.

“Please.”

It spilled from Will’s lips without warning, without any input from Will himself. Just a breath of a sound, but loud enough to be heard. Will caught his mistake almost immediately, and drew in a horrified gasp. He didn’t know if he should apologize now, or wait to be spoken to, first. 

Hannibal’s fingers stilled against him before his hand moved away. Will could feel his cheeks burning with humiliation - he had been doing  _ so well _ and now he had embarrassed himself and his Alpha in front of company. It was inexcusable. He licked his lips but realized he couldn’t duck his head as such an apology demanded.

“I’m sorry, Master, I forgot myself. Please remind me of my place.”

A chuckle from further down the table, and Will wanted to sink through the earth. Beside him, Hannibal hummed, considered. He didn’t touch Will again for a few long moments, before touching his hair almost fondly.

“Perhaps not quite trained yet, Hannibal.”

“But very eager,” another added, as Hannibal had earlier in the evening. Their host allowed a laugh, low and pleased, before tugging Will’s hair sharply to get his attention.

“Over my knee.”

“Over the table, Hannibal, don’t be selfish!”

Laughter, dark and rumbling like a growl, and Will felt like ice had crawled beneath his skin. He didn’t dare look up at Hannibal to plead for mercy; he wouldn’t get it. He listened, instead, to Hannibal working free his belt beside him.

“Stand up, boy,” Hannibal said when the leather was folded between his hands. “Chest to the table.”

Will whimpered and moved to obey, cheeks florid, eyes liquid as he obeyed his master. The way the collar held him, he was forced to look at everyone looking at him, laid out on the table like a feast for them. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, and they trembled at his sides until Hannibal took both wrists in his hand and pressed them to the base of his back.

“Must I bind you or can you behave?”

Will’s answer came without hesitation, “I can behave, Master, I’m sorry.”

Hannibal released him. Will clasped his hands over his wrists, holding tight, eyes wide as he took in everyone. This was the first time he’d seen any of the Alpha’s faces. Before this point, they’d been a collection of knees. Now, he could see the hunger and amusement in their eyes.

Hannibal’s belt tapped gently at Will’s ass, jostling the plug ever so slightly, and Will realized the double-edged sword the punishment would be. 

“Eyes open,” Hannibal told him before he could hide, “If you can disobey me in front of these men, you can be properly punished in front of them.”

“Yes, Master,” Will whispered, mouth dry. “Please punish me for my disobedience.”

The only thing that soothed him was the pleasure he heard in Hannibal’s voice, rather than disappointment. “Five, boy.”

“Thank you, Master.”

The first strike always seemed to come from nowhere. It burned across Will’s ass in a searing stripe, nudging the plug inside him and pushing Will up onto his toes with a gasp. He could feel the heat all the way through him, gathering low in his belly in a mortified arousal. 

“One, Master, Thank you.”

Hannibal struck him as he always struck him, he didn’t hold back, and he didn’t tease Will. This was a punishment, and it was administered as such.

“Two, Master, thank you.”

Will tried to avoid the eyes on him, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t allowed to close his eyes, he wasn’t able to duck his head, he had to endure the belt - which he loved against his skin - and the plug that pushed up against his prostate with every strike, while Alphas watched him with lustful hunger. The third landed where Will’s ass met his thighs and he yelped, biting his lip.

“Th-three, Master, thank you.”

He counted four. He counted five. He remained bent over the table until Hannibal helped him stand up and realized he was crying only when tears slid against his lips. He heard the soft praise Hannibal whispered to him, heard the indifferent words he spoke to the room at large.

Hannibal told him to collect the dishes and wash up while they took their brandy in the study. Will was told to join them when he was finished. Will felt like the most loved thing on earth when Hannibal ducked into the kitchen as his guests went on ahead, and kissed Will’s temples, whispering to him that he could not have been prouder of his slutty little thing.

**Author's Note:**

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